All Around Me
by qfd
Summary: Do professional athletes get broken hearts? Sure, but eventually a woman comes along who can mend them, it just takes time and trust and for professional hockey players like Jarkko Ruutu and Sidney Crosby,that can be a big problem
1. Chapter 1

"Did you say latte?" Georges asks, handing his Starbucks card to the girl at the register. I nod, before going back to reading the text my younger brother's just sent me, a grainy picture of some girl sleeping naked in his bed, probably taken with his cell phone, and the only explanation he gives is the simple one word title: 'latest'. I shake my head and erase the picture. Tuomo, always taking advantage of being the sports 'star', it's a good thing he's not here in Pittsburgh with all these young guys for competition.

I glance over to where Army and Geno are chatting up a couple of young urban professionals, or at least Army is. Geno's just smiling, he's still too unsure of his grasp of the language to actually try small talk. Tuomo would be in there already. But then he is the best looking of us, of my two brothers and I.

"See something you like?" Georges gives me an elbow as he hands me my coffee.

"Not for me," I shrug. "That kind of girl would never talk to me."

"Why? You don't smell or anything. Well, not too much anyway." Georges laughs, hip checking me as we walk towards the group milling around the door. I keep my head down, only glancing sideways at the women in their high heels and their expensively tailored suits with their perfect manicures and their name brand designer hand-bags. I watch them giggle and bat their fake eyelashes at the boys.

Been there, done that and if there was one thing I learned from that…disaster, it's that those aren't the girls for me. Next time I decide to give my heart away, it won't be to one of those kinds of girls. I may have been made a fool of once, but I'm not a fool and it won't happen again.

"Hey watch where you're going!" I'm so busy brooding over spilt milk that I walk straight into a girl with an armful of books, knocking them and my coffee all over the place. I listen to her curse a blue streak for a long moment, half admiring how many ways she can string together the f-bomb with many other colourful metaphors, and half admiring her long denim clad legs poured into a pair of high heeled very pointy black boots. "So you're just going to stare at me and not even help?" she snaps, dropping carefully into a crouch, balancing her weight on the pointed toes of her boots while she begins to pile her books on her knees.

Joining her, I glance over the titles, Contract Law, Tortes, Power of Attorney…huh, smart girl. As I hand her one of the thick tomes, I get a fantastic view of her ample cleavage as she reaches for one her notebooks, and I begin to feel a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. Smart _and_ hot, interesting.

"Let me apologize for my silent friend here, he's nursing a broken heart, so he was worlds away, revasser," Georges explains with a flourish, handing her the last book and bowing his huge body over her small hand.

"Goody for him," she snaps, folding her arms around the books and brushing past us without so much as a look back. I give my head a shake, snapping out of the daze I've fallen into and turn around, ignoring the knowing look from big Georges as I jog to catch up with her.

"I'm sorry, about your books I mean," I begin, getting in front of her and turning around walking backwards so I can watch her while I walk.

"You'd have been a hell of a lot more sorry if that coffee had got on my essay," she snarls, looking over her books at me disparagingly. That look should make me want to slink away and lick my wounds somewhere, but somehow, coming from her full soft lips and her round baby face, it has the opposite effect. It has me rising to the challenge.

"Look, I lost my coffee and you're here for coffee so why don't I buy? It's the least I can do," I offer, grinning at her, even though she's narrowed her beautiful onyx Asian eyes at me from behind the lenses of her rectangular frames. She gives me one of those long lingering elevator looks, and then just the one corner of her lusciously moist pink lips twitches up into what could be considered a smile.

"Mocha, _with_ whip," she adds with emphasis, practically daring me to ask her if she should have whip cream. Some other man might, but as my gaze takes in the curves that any sports car would be happy to race along, I decide it couldn't possibly hurt. "I'll be over there," she inclines her head towards a table towards the back of the café, and then with one more of those smoldering elevator glances, she turns and walks towards the table. Walks…more like struts, her ass swinging enticingly in those painted on jeans. I find myself whetting my lips as I watch her walk away, as if I'm getting ready to take a big bite out of that plump round ass of hers'.

Whoa cowboy. It's just coffee.

But then she glances over her shoulder at me as she slides her books onto the table, and I'm certain the invitation is there in the way she raises her perfectly arched eyebrow at me, in the way she flicks her long straight ebony hair over her shoulder as she slides into the chair and crosses her long, long legs.

My mouth goes dry, and my chest tightens, and suddenly it feels a whole lot warmer than the frosty morning would otherwise suggest, even though it's got to be warm in the café, it's not warm enough to have sweat trickling down the back of my neck, but there it is, nonetheless.

Coffee. Right. She could just be wondering if I'm going to continue to stand here staring at her like some kind of retard, or if I'm actually going to get the coffee.

Giving myself a little shake, I turn, and head for the counter. Mocha…with whip.

* * *

Okay, so I was pissed when he ran into me. No, I was _fucking_ pissed. I'd spent all night on that stupid paper and if he'd spilled one single drop of his coffee on the paper I'd have had to go home and reprint the whole stupid thing. Lucky for him his coffee went mostly onto his sweatshirt and jeans. Not that he's noticed. Not that he even flinched when steaming hot liquid poured down the front of his jeans.

No, he was way too busy staring at my cleavage. Now, under normal conditions, that would piss me off too, but for him, I'm happy to make an exception. Of course I know who he is, but if he's happy to think I don't, I'm not ready to disabuse him of his secure feeling of anonymity. If he wants to be just a regular Joe out for a cup of coffee, well okay, then he doesn't need to know that he's one of the major reasons, okay, _the_ major reason I applied to Penn State Law.

Jarkko Ruutu, otherwise known as the Finnish Dennis the Menace. Watching him walk away from now, I find myself licking my lips as I observe the way his nice big round skater butt fills his jeans to maximum capacity. Oh yeah, that's the way momma likes it, lots of muscular junk in the trunk.

It's not the first time I've watched him walk away from me, but he obviously doesn't remember, which, probably is a good thing. If I'd thought about that day a little more, if I'd planned it better, I would have tried to look a little more appetizing.

Not that this was planned; not exactly. I'd been trying every coffee joint within a ten mile radius of the arena since the day I arrived. I mean, who doesn't need coffee? I figured it was more than an average bet one or two of the players would show up at one of these places sooner or later.

Of course I'd tried the clubs, and yes I know which clubs they go to, but then so does every red blooded puck bunny in Pennsylvania by the look of some of the line ups outside those certain clubs on a game night. I don't count myself as one of those girls, the pink jersey wearing, bubble gum smacking, screeching bimbos that hold up those signs at the games. You know the ones, 'marry me Sidney.' Besides, it's not Sidney I'm after. Not that I'd toss him out of my bed for eating animal crackers, what warm blooded female would?

But that bespectacled unassuming looking man in his early thirties standing waiting for my mocha; now _that_ is what I came to Pittsburgh for. Jarkko Ruutu, his name might be almost a curse word to some, but then, what girl can resist a bad boy? Besides, it's his perfect, almost Clarke Kent like chameleon personality that makes my blood run warmer in my veins. One minute mild mannered, dare I say, almost nerd like behind his glasses and receding hair line, the next, cursing like a sailor, and giving someone a bloody nose, and thoroughly enjoying his position as head agitator and second in command butt kicker. Oh yeah, who needs mild mannered Sidney Crosby when there's that big piece of muscled Finnish man meat available?

And he _is_ available. I don't know if there's any other NHL team with quite so many young and available millionaires at the moment but once I knew he was free, I had to try. There may have been some tall lanky bottle blonde overpaid Finnish porn star before me, but I don't plan on there being any others after me. Stalker…maybe so, but the way he's looking over at me, I really don't think he's going to mind.

"Mocha, with whip, as the lady ordered," he says quietly, that northern European accent curling my toes as he glances at me over the lenses of his glasses, his jade green eyes catching the light. I slide my index finger through the tower of thick cream and bring the sweet confection to my lips, wrapping my tongue suggestively around my finger. He freezes, half standing, half sitting, his attention wrapped around my finger along with my tongue.

"Thanks," I grin at him, moving the cup over to make room for my books, spreading open one of my text books and pulling a hi-lighter from my purse, essentially dismissing him. As someone wiser and more experienced in these things than I once said, treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen.

"Law school?" he asks, stating the obvious in an attempt to keep the lines of communication open as I let my hand stray to the gold necklace dangling in my cleavage. With a small congratulatory grin to myself, I glance up at him, nodding, and then glue my attention to the book in front of me. "What are you planning to specialize in?" I can't help but think 'good, he's not stupid'. I never thought he was, not really, but it's good to know anyway.

"Sports and Entertainment," I answer, dragging the still capped hi-lighter slowly down the page, before seemingly becoming engrossed in a point on the page, lifting the hi-lighter suggestively to my lips. I'm rewarded with a sharp intake of breath from his side of the table as I bite on the cap.

"Sports," he replies quietly, grasping onto the word with a grin, spreading his full kissable lips over his amazingly still perfect teeth. "You like sports?"

Damn! I had been hoping to keep up the pretense a little while longer, but I'm not willing to out and out lie to him. So instead I let my gaze slowly wander up to meet his, wondering what the reaction is going to be when he realizes that I know. Happily, his grin widens into that infamous Ruutu grin, and then it's my turn to gasp when his tongue slides out to whet his full bottom lip.

"I do," I reply quietly, sure that if I speak any louder, he'll hear the quaver in my voice. "Especially hockey."

"Really?" he draws the word out, rolling his tongue around it, making my mouth go dry. "Are you going to the game tonight?"

"With these classes to pay for?" I ask, inclining my head towards my books but not dropping his gaze for a moment.

"But if you could?" he continues, his emerald eyes alight with intrigue.

"I might," I shrug, doing everything and anything in my power to contain my enthusiasm, to at least appear to be cool, calm, collected. I can always pass out later.

"So if someone was to leave tickets for you at will call…," his voice drops off as his gaze searches mine, making me want very much to squirm uncomfortably in my seat, but a voice in the back of my head tells me that the cool thing is working, don't lose it now. "What name would I leave it under?"

"Carmen," I reply, digging my nails into the palm of my hand in my lap, beneath the table, a last gasp measure.

"Carmen," he chews on the name, tasting it, rolling it around in his mouth until I want to crawl over the table on my hands and knees and suck it out of his mouth. "And what about a late dinner, after the game?"

I want to bounce up and down and clap my hands like a little kid at a birthday party. I want to say that I'd be all over that like a horny puppy on a pillow. Instead I shrug, and turn my attention back to the pages in front of me.

"I guess," I reply, clenching my teeth once I've said it to stop from squealing like a stuck pig. I dig my nails even deeper into my hand, and I can tell from the sting that I've drawn blood.

"Well then maybe I'll see you later, Carmen." He adds my name, like a cherry on top of a sundae, almost as if he likes the sound of it, or he knows the sound of my name coming from his lips has me wet in anticipation.

"Maybe," I manage, without looking up. I grind my teeth, counting silently, waiting for him to get a few steps away before I let myself glance up, let myself enjoy the sight of him walking away. Oh how I love to watch that man walk away.

* * *

"Did I just see you making moves mon frère?" Georges laughs heartily as I rejoin the guys near the door where they've moved back in from the cold.

"You may have," I reply, proudly, returning his toothy grin.

"Well, well," he laughs, offering me his big paw of a hand. "Welcome back from the dead mon ami. Bien joue, je t'ai sous-estime."

"Never underestimate a Ruutu," I remind him, taking his hand and shaking it.

"I should know that by now," he laughs, smacking me on the back, hard, sending me forward a pace. "Ravissant."

"I thought so too," I agree with him.

"So you get a number?" Army asks, glancing her way thoughtfully.

"I will," I reply confidently. "I'll be seeing her later."

"I didn't think you had it in you," Army continues, his gaze still trained on the tall Asian beauty. "I thought you were too broken to chase girls. Isn't that what you said?"

"Did I?" I ask, shrugging, knowing full well that I did. "Well I guess maybe not as broken as I thought."

"I'll say," Geno chimes in.

"Well let us know if you're not going to tap that," Georges smiles, shaking his head at me and chuckling like this is all very amusing.

"Don't worry, I won't," I reply, shaking my head at him and heading for the car.


	2. Chapter 2

C2

What's a girl to wear to meet with the man of her dreams, keeping in mind of course that she _does_ has to be appear in public and therefore a red and black satin teddy just won't do. Cleavage seemed to captivate him, so that's a must. Heels too, but not as high as this morning, I was almost too tall and while there's definitely something to be said for the way a woman's legs, particularly my long legs, look in heels, there's nothing quite as anti feminine as being taller than your date, especially when he's as broad shouldered and thickly muscled and…wait…I'm drooling again.

I could go with a dress but then I'd be cold at the rink. Not that that seems to stop most of the silly little puck bunnies down front in their little pink half shirts, uber short skirts and high heels that would make most hookers teeter precariously. Not that any of the guys pay much attention to the silly ho's in the stands, they are at work after all. I do say _most_ of the guys, because I couldn't fail to notice how a couple of the 'older' players were checking out the Crosby fan club bouncing around the glass at the last game. I guess for them it's an amusing side show but I've noticed most of the guys seem to try hard not to pay them any attention, I guess it would be a distraction.

Not that I wouldn't mind being a distraction to him. Oh god, those green eyes of his roaming over me made me feel…well, naked; which is how I'm going to end up going to the game if I don't choose something to wear pretty soon.

What am I even doing? What seemed like a good idea not so many hours ago now has me stripping out of my pads more slowly than usual. Usually I'm one of the first guys out to my car, on to the next thing or home to de-stress and watch a movie or go out for dinner with friends. I'm not ready for this dating thing. I can't even believe I asked her out.

I can't believe how good she looked sitting in the stands. I wasn't going to look, I was going to play it cool, but I couldn't help glancing up during the warm up, just to see if she was there yet, at least that's what I told myself, and then damn! She was standing there talking to the usher who was showing her to her seat and I know my mouth sort of fell open because Talbot had to point it out to me. Knee high black boots with a red halter dress with all that ebony hair falling around her ivory shoulders…damn.

Now I know why the Kid intentionally doesn't look at the girls in the stands. Not that I usually do either, but…damn! Those legs are a god damn distraction. More than once I had to force my attention back to the game when we were on a TV time out or waiting for the puck to drop.

I know that's why I'm taking my time getting out of my kit. I can't believe a woman like that would want anything to do with me. It crosses my mind that maybe she intends to go through me to one of the other more 'popular' guys, like Croz or Army but then…I know I don't know her but she didn't _seem_ like one of those girls. Sure it's happened, and some of the other guys like Max take advantage of the girls that see them as their ticket to get to the Kid but…usually even they don't see me. They look through me; too old, too bald, too geeky.

She didn't look at me like that. She looked at me like…like she wanted me, which is just crazy. What would an obviously smart hot young woman want with a balding geeky sweaty hockey player, a fourth line fighter and grinder at that? But she showed…

"Hey, Ruuts, you coming out tonight?" Max asks, reemerging from the shower, in all his hairy glory.

"Nah," I shrug, "I've got plans."

"Plans? Better than Blush?" he asks, looking astonished, as if there isn't anything better than going to a nudie bar after a game.

"He's got a hot date," Big Georges laughs, giving me a pat on the shoulder as he heads for the showers.

"You? Who'd date you?" Army laughs, whipping me with his towel.

"That girl from the coffee shop," Georges adds before I can open my mouth to stop him.

"Yeah?" Army looks sideways at me. "Where are you headed?"

"I don't know," I shrug, as I follow them to the showers. "I haven't decided. I don't actually go out a lot, I mean, without you guys," I add as Army raises his eyebrows at me.

"Lemont," a few of the guys call out right away.

"That's way too fancy for Ruuts, he can't eat with his hands there," Army laughs, but only until the bar of soap in my hand comes in contact with the back of his head.

He looks _so_ good in a suit. I can't stop looking at how wide his shoulders are and how the fabric pulls across his ass when he walks. It makes me want to just pounce on him, except that it seems like everyone is watching us, from when we left the arena with all the guys watching and whispering to now, the waiter keeps giving me this knowing smile, like he knows something or we're sharing a secret. Or…even worse, he thinks I'm a puck bunny.

I'm so glad he's been talking about the game, not that I don't have a ton of things I want to ask him but…how do you ask him why such a gorgeous creature like him is still single without sounding like, well, an idiot? Now usually I'd love to debate hockey, with anyone, but it's kind of hard to follow what he's saying when the combination of his accent and the passion that floods his emerald green eyes when he's talking about it makes me squirm in my chair. I have to keep reminding myself to actually listen, which is hard when I lose myself in gazing at his full lips, wondering just what it would be like to kiss him.

I have a degree in Philosophy, I'm studying law and I've been reduced to a blithering, drooling idiot.

"Did you like the rabbit?" he asks suddenly, pushing the garnish around his empty plate with his fork.

"I did actually," I manage, poking at what's left of the rice on my plate.

"Not very many women would order that," he observes, regarding me cautiously, as if he's afraid I'll bite, and he should be.

"Yeah well, Thumper _is_ annoying," I reply casually, but I can feel the giggle start to bubble up in my chest and when he snorts water half way across the table, it bursts out and then we're both laughing.

"You're cute when you giggle," he smiles as he sits back in his chair.

"I'm cute all the time," I correct him, lifting my wine glass to my lips to hide some of the pink that I'm sure is currently colouring my cheeks.

"Do you like kids?" he asks, just like that, out of the blue, making me choke on my white wine. Dabbing my lips with my napkin, I stare at him, not sure how to answer.

"Like them…how?"

"I'm not going to beat around the bush," he replies quietly, leaning forward and sliding his hand across the table so his fingertips are almost touching mine as I lay the linen napkin down. I stare at his thick fingers for a long moment, picturing things I probably shouldn't, before I manage to tear my gaze away from his big masculine hands and back up to his green eyes. "I want a family, big family," he continues, watching me carefully, trying to gauge my reaction. "I don't want to waste my time with someone who doesn't."

I've been watching her all night, watching her watch me and it's…weird. Half the time when she's eating I could swear that she isn't thinking about food, she's thinking about…sex. Everything she does with her food, the way she chews is just…sexy. God, has it really been that long that all I can think about when I'm around a pretty girl is sex? Am I really that hard up?

Or am I just that damaged by my brothers? After all, my last relationship started out with trying to impress my brothers by dating a model and sometimes porn star. I thought it would make me cooler in their eyes, but the only person that even liked her apart from me was my mom, and that was only because she came with a built in grandchild. My brothers liked him too…

"Do you like kids?" The question pops out of my mouth before I have a chance to edit my thought, and it makes her gasp, her eyes going wide in surprise.

"Like them…how?" she asks, dabbing at her lips with the white linen napkin while trying to erase the look of surprise from her face. I feel bad for asking, it's the kind of question they say never to bring up on a first date but….

"I'm not going to beat around the bush," it's out there now, I may as well go with it. I can't take it back now, but at the same time, I don't want to scare her away, so I reach out, intending to take her hand, except I've been so careful not to touch her up til now so I stop short, the tips of my fingers just barely brushing hers' as I try and think the best way to say this. "I want a family, a big family," I explain, watching for signs that she's going to bust out of her chair and run for the nearest exit. "I don't want to waste my time with someone who doesn't." There, I've said it, as scary as it sounds, it's out there, and as I cringe internally, waiting for her reaction, I can't help but think of the way Niina looked at me when I suggested having our own son, my own son. "I'm not crazy."

"Of course you're not," she smiles, the look on her face softening as she pats my hand.

"Oh…I said that out loud," I roll my eyes at myself as I realize what I've done. "It's just…," damn! I'm explaining myself a lot suddenly. "It's just…that's was my ex's reaction to the uh…kid issue."

"Well that must have been uncomfortable," she giggles, sitting back and regarding me over her martini glass. "Let's see…kids," she sighs, her dark eyes sweeping over me as she purses her lips, considering me it seems. "I like kids, usually other people's kids but…with the right person, someone who is really going to share the work…I can see it." She leans her elbows on the table and gives me that look again, that sexy come hither stare over the lip of her glass as she runs her fingers down the stem, making me squirm in my chair. "And I don't think you're crazy, I think it's…sweet that you want to be a daddy."

Quiet. Strangely quiet. That's how I would describe the ride to my apartment. Like he's…thinking, or maybe concentrating on my pathetic excuse for directions? Either way, it gives me time to enjoy the view, and by that I mean the way his meaty fingers curl around the steering wheel, the way his heavily muscled thighs flex as he jams the clutch and stomps on the gas. It's all I can do not to moan out loud as he sends his black BMW sports car roaring down the highway at break neck speeds. He drives the car like he plays hockey, with aggression and confidence and it's sexy as hell.

The silence also gives me time to contemplate the way kids came up in the conversation just out of the blue like that. The only reasonable conclusion that I can come to is that she broke him. That she-male bitch has made him so gun shy, has hurt him so badly that he's willing to toss aside all first date conventions and ask the question. Well that's fine, Humpty Dumpty might have fallen off his wall but I don't mind putting him back together again.

Except I'm getting no vibes off of him whatsoever, except for when he's opened the car door or pulled out my chair, he hasn't even got close to me. Close enough to get a heady whiff of spicy aftershave, but that's it. This is why I almost jump out of my skin when he slides his arm along the back of my headrest as he expertly parallel parks in front of my apartment building. I find myself staring into those emerald eyes, waiting, hoping that he won't just say 'nice knowin' ya, you can get out of the car now', praying as my gaze slides down to those full plump lips that he's going to at least kiss me goodnight.

"So…who is it you want to meet?" he asks suddenly, killing the engine as he tears his gaze from mine and stares out the darkened windshield.

"Wh…what?" I stutter, completely taken off guard by the callousness in his voice.

"Let's be honest," he sighs, closing his eyes and rubbing his hand over his closely shorn hair, "you're…well you're beautiful and I'm…definitely not so…is it Crosby? Fleury?" I know my mouth is hanging open in a soundless cry of rage as I stare at him, utterly disbelief leaving me speechless, which is quite a feat in itself. I watch him put both hands on the steering wheel, like he needs to hold onto something, and I don't know who to be more angry at, him, or the stupid puck bunnies that have obviously come before me.

"I can't believe you just fucking said that," I grumble, feeling both defensive and annoyed, wanting very much to stamp my foot but decide that it's more grown up not to, and besides, it's not his fault that I haven't admitted to stalking him yet. "What have I done or said that would make you think I was interested in anyone but you? In fact," taking a deep breath and building up my courage, I reach out and run my hand along the stubble gracing his cheek and chin, feeling an electric current run up my arm as I do, "I'd be very, _very_ offended if you don't come up for a nightcap."

I find myself staring at her bubble gum pink lips, wondering if they will be as soft as they look, so at first I don't really take in what she's saying. My brain's so focused on the jolt the touch of her hand sends through me that it takes a moment to decipher the actual words coming out of her lips as they move, but then I finally do make some sense of that particular string of words and it's just in time to lean into the kiss she's offering and then it's like a switch has been thrown, like I've gone from a monk to an animal in a moment.

Her lips close softly around my bottom lip, her hand curls gently around the back of my head, and as I kiss her back, parting her lips with my tongue, I'm sure I hear her moan and that only spurs me on, makes me want to kiss her more, more deeply, more urgently. Her hot tongue wraps around mine, and a shiver of desire courses through me. I have every intention of pulling back, asking her if she's serious, but then her other hand slides up my thigh, and makes it clear that she's not going to be denied.

I can hear my old friend Trev laughing at me in my head as her hand gives my hardening dick a gentle but insistent squeeze. I never could figure out when a girl was flirting or not. I've never been much of a flirt. I suppose the better percentage of that particular gene skipped over me and went to Tuomo. But then thinking goes out the door all together as she gives the bottom of my dress shirt a tug and loosens it enough to get her hand underneath, allowing her fingers room to explore my chest, sending rockets off in my head as the palm of her hand slides lightly over my nipple.

Gathering her hair in my fingers, I pull her head to one side, baring her long ivory neck. Kissing my way down the smooth skin, I feel her pulse between my lips and bite down, just enough to make her gasp out loud. I take the whimper she emits next as invitation to do more, and push her sweater aside, baring those smooth round shoulders and biting there too. Her little cries, along with her nails digging into the back of my neck have me wishing there wasn't a stick shift in this damn car to contend with, of course there's a simple solution for that issue.

"Did you say _upstairs_?" I whisper hoarsely, nibbling my way back up her neck and running my tongue over the shell of her perfectly formed ear.

"God yes," she moans, pushing the door open and stepping out onto the sidewalk, digging through her purse for her keys. Following close behind, I lock the door and jam the key in my pocket as I catch up to her, sweeping her long ebony locks aside and biting down on the thin skin at the nape of her neck, causing her to drop her keys and grab for the handle of the door. "Do that again and I'll be forced to cause a public scene," she sighs, reaching back between us and giving my erection a good hard squeeze to let me know she means what she says.

"I might let you," I sigh, grabbing her earlobe between my teeth and biting down, hard.

"Careful what you wish for," she mumbles, running her hand along the length of my now very hard cock through my pants, causing me to groan out loud and lean into her. "Now get my keys so I can get you inside and take….proper care of you." With a grin, I follow her instruction, bending to get her keys, but running the cold metal up the back of her leg, slowly, until I get to the hem, receiving a satisfactory sigh as she holds her hand out, snapping her fingers impatiently. "If you keep being such a bad boy, I may have to spank you," she adds, jamming the key in the door.

"I don't think so," I laugh, following her inside and over to the elevator, standing behind her, lifting her hair away from the back of her neck again and nibbling more gently this time. "I think you're the one who wants that," I suggest quietly, and as the doors open, revealing a vacant interior, I give her round little ass a hard smack, sending her stumbling forward, giggling all the way.

I'd pat myself on the back for turning the light on his eyes, but I'm too busy be lifted up on the chrome hand rail, my thighs forced wide around his midsection as his hands slide up my thighs and around to cup my ass, his tongue rolling around mine all the while. It's too hard to think, let alone congratulate myself, as his broad muscular chest presses up against mine, as his current state of happiness makes itself known against my inner thigh. All I can do is sigh, moan and whimper as his lips move from mine down to the tender thin skin of my neck where I know his teeth are leaving their mark and for once, I couldn't be happier about being tattooed by a set of teeth.

We almost miss the door opening on my floor, and probably would have carried on if not for one of my neighbors, an old busy body in her house coat with her snorty little pug dog under her arm. With a nervous laugh, Jarkko lets me down, even going so far as to smooth my skirt down before ushering me out of the elevator and into the hall with his hand on the small of my back. It feels like it's always been there. It feels like it fits. It sends a chill down my spine.

What am I doing?

I want him, there's no doubt about that, and the way he's reacting, he's more than happy to give in to me but this isn't what I wanted. I mean it _is_ but…it's not. I want him, all of him, not just his body and not just for tonight. I mean, I do want his body, but…just not for one night.

Freezing with my hand on the door knob, I rest my forehead on the cool of the door, closing my eyes and for the umpteenth time tonight taking a deep, calming breath.

"I think I should say good night," I sigh, cringing inwardly at how cowardly that sounds.

"What?" he sighs, his breath warm on my neck as he once again goes for the spot at the top of my spine that makes me shiver. "_You_ asked me up here?" he groans, disbelief clear in his voice.

"I know and believe me, you're not nearly as disappointed as me," I mumble, turning around and leaning my back against the door, feeling small surrounded by his arms braced on the door frame as he looks down at me. "I just…don't want you to think I'm some kind of…_'puck-bunny'_," I explain, searching his green eyes for some sign that he gets what I'm saying to him.

"And if I don't?" he asks hopefully, his eyes wide and pleading. He looks so fucking cute I want to give in, it would be so easy to, but with a groan I shake my head, letting my bangs fall into my face, hoping that will hide the smile I can't help. "I knew it! You can't go through with it," he snarls, pushing off from the wall and turning his broad back to me, hunching his shoulder and curling his hands into fists that look more like anvils. "So if it's not me…."

"Oh my god will you stop! Seriously?" I sigh, shaking my head. "I want you, really. I'm the one who wants your babies, remember?" I cringe at the memory, even though it's really one that I cherish and will never forget, sort of like tonight.

"Babies…no….I didn't mean earlier…I meant…," grabbing his hand seems to shut him up and he follows like an obedient puppy as I pull him into my tiny apartment, past the kitchen, past the empty pizza boxes in the living room and into my bedroom…well, shrine, where I stop, pointing to a sign taped up in the corner of my room, right next to an autographed hockey stick, and right above an autographed jersey.

It takes all the courage I have left, and I've had had to use a butt load already tonight, which I think is pretty damn unfair, to look up into his face to gauge his reaction, which goes from blank to bemused to the famous Ruutu grin which he then turns on me.

"That was you?" he shakes his head and then laughs. "Why don't I remember you?"

"You tell me, maybe I'm forgettable," I shrug, but can't contain the grin in answer to his.

"Hardly," he growls, pulling me to him and kissing me until once again I'm moaning into his mouth and sliding my hands down around to cup his solidly muscled derriere.

"You need to go," I sigh, pulling back from him but careful to pull back and out of my room, instead of towards the bed which is actually calling my name quite loudly.

"And if I don't?" he asks, that grin of his turning feral as he follows me out into the hall and presses me against the wall, running his hands down my sides and sending goose-bumps flying across my skin.

"Then it will be good…no…amazing," I grin back at him, nipping at his bottom lip before digging my nails into his rock hard abs and backing him up. "But if we wait…get to know one another," I begin, raising my eyebrow at him hopefully.

"Then it will be better later?" he completes my thought with a sigh, but the grin remains.

"Is that so bad, the idea of seeing me again?" I purr, sliding my arms up and around his neck, gazing up into those green eyes, offering my lips to him again.

"No," he sighs, tasting my lips briefly. "I think I'll survive…for a day or so." His lips touch mine once more, and then he backs away towards the still open door where he sketches out a mock bow and then shakes his head. "You know that you're forcing me to take a cold shower when I get home?"

"I'll make it worth your while," I promise, blowing him a kiss as he backs down the hall. Laughing he turns and walks into the elevator, getting a strange look from my neighbor as she comes back out that only makes me laugh as I slam the door before she turns to glare at me.


	3. Chapter 3

C3

Vacillating between cloud nine and reality, I'd been trying to decide if I'd just met the woman of my dreams or if I was still being jerked around and was still in for some unpleasant surprise. I keep telling myself that if she was acting she should be up for an Oscar at the very least, but I can't quite seem to silence that little voice in my head that keeps telling me that if it seems too good to be true that it probably is.

I'm not usually the guy that waits a week to call. I'm not good looking enough to get away with that kind of thing, not like Sid, girls forgive him just about anything. But every time I've thought about calling, that voice in the back of my mind stills my hand above the phone. There must be some catch, there must be something I'm missing, some clue I didn't pick up on, after all, Tuomo loves to tell me that I'm forever missing it when women hit on me, so why not the opposite?

And yet, there's a part of me, a large part, that very much wants to believe this tall curvy Asian Goddess with the long ebony locks and the soft pliant lips does actually want me. It's the same part of me that wants to believe her when she says it really isn't one of my younger better looking team mates that she truly wants.

Still, I haven't made myself pick up the phone to call her and take her up on her offer to get to know her better, even after all the dreams that have had me waking up in a sweat for a week now. The voice won't let me. The worst part about that is the voice in my head has a face, my ex's. It's Niina's voice I hear in my head telling me that I'm not good enough, not smart enough, not hot enough, that I don't have enough hair, that I'm too near sighted, that I'm too geeky for a girl that hot. Every time I've had one of those dreams where my hands are roaming up those endlessly long legs or lacing my fingers through those ebony locks, Niina's mocking laughter rings in my ears, waking me up, ruining what seems like it should be a really good dream.

I want to stop dreaming. I want to pick up the phone and call Carmen and see if I can make this dream a reality, but every time I work up the courage, or think I have, I keep thinking what if…

"Ruuts," Georges shoves me into the boards in passing, laughing at me with his big joyful grin. "Where in the hell are you today little buddy? You're staring into space and you're not laughing at any of my jokes...?"

"Well your jokes aren't funny," I shrug, shaking myself back into reality.

"What?" he feigns shock and then rolls his eyes and laughs, snapping a puck into my feet and making me stumble. "C'mon, tell Georges what the problem is."

"He didn't get any the other night," Gonch says matter-of-factly, but with that knowing fatherly grin of his. "He's deprived."

"C'mon, really?" Georges actually looks genuinely surprised. "She looked hot for you man. I thought you were well in there."

"No," I shake my head, shrugging at the same time, passing the puck ahead instead of snapping off a shot. "I don't think so."

"I'm telling you, you were in there man. C'mon, don't let big Georges down."

"Yeah, and now you don't have to fight with Colby," Gonch adds smugly, flinching slightly as I am a quickly blow at his shoulder.

"Colby…please, that little worm," I laugh, but it's hollow. We all miss him. I'd rather have fought with him over a woman than lose him to Atlanta of all teams. Kovalchuk…what an actor that guy is. "So you thought I was in there?" I ask, looking from Gonch to Georges and back. Both the men nod, giving me a look that I know is sincere. You travel with guys long enough; you just get to know when the joking stops. "So you think I should call her?"

"You haven't called her?" Geno shoves me over as he skates by. "Give me her number, I call her, give her real man," he laughs, making a quick get away as I scramble to my feet.

"You better sleep with one eye open Geno!" I call out to him, only to see him taunting me from half way across the rink. That kid can sure skate fast for a big guy.

"Seriously though," Gonch says, using his mentor voice, slow and steady like he does with Geno, "I haven't had to explain this to a rookie for a while, they kind of get it now but I know you're just a Fin so…," his voice trails off as he grins, the laugh lines appearing around his eyes as his potato round face brightens. "Seriously Ruuts, you're an NHL player, a professional, and it might be hard for me to believe it, but some women will actually want you."

"Ha ha," I reach for him only to have him dodge out of my, skating backwards faster than I can skate forwards, laughing the whole way.

* * *

I felt like singing, for a couple days I even felt like skipping between classes. I could not get this stupid grin off of my face. I'd made out with Jarkko Ruutu, _the_ Jarkko Ruutu, man of my dreams. He wanted me, there was no doubting it.

Or is there? Because now I'm beginning to doubt that our date ever happened. I'm beginning to think it was all a figment of my imagination, and I have been accused of having an overactive imagination. I'm seriously beginning to think that I dreamt the whole thing and have just woken up to realize that it's not true and that I still haven't met him and that I've moved to a strange American city to find him and I it hasn't happened. He never bought me a coffee or rolled his tongue around my name and made me weak at the knees and he certainly never shoved my dress up around my waist and pinned my to an elevator wall.

I dreamt it all, I mean, I must have because otherwise he would have called. I mean…either he's a gentleman, and he did have a good time and he's going to ask me out or at the very least he's horny as hell and he wants to finish what we started the other night, but one way or the other, he would have called by now, _if_ it had actually happened. So it must not have, it must be my imagination, or someone's slipped me something and I've been hallucinating because I could have sworn I was holding onto his…

No, that was something I was pretty sure of. Everyone kept asking me why I was grinning, me, the usually silent but deadly student sitting alone in the back of the classroom with a scowl on her face. For days afterwards people were asking me if I'd won the lottery or something. I felt like I had but how do you explain that it's kind of the same thing but grabbing the man of your dreams by his long, thick…

Shaking my head, I try and push that image to the back of my mind. I mean it's nice, but it doesn't do anything more than cause frustration if I can't make the actual event reoccur. So, enough waiting already. If the mountain won't come to Mohammed, well then, I'll just have to take the mountain to his doorstep.

If I'd been dressed like one of those silly little puck bunnies, in their pink too short jerseys and ultra tight painted on jeans, maybe this wouldn't have been so simple, but with Jimmy Choo stilettos and a dark purple business suit, my hair pulled back into a simple pony tail and a pair of glasses and…boom! I sashay right past security without so much as a glance sideways. I look like I'm all business, and I am, just private business.

Some of the other players are already filing out of the arena, bundled up against the cold, but I barely give any of them a glance. I know exactly what I'm looking for, and so far I'm not seeing it. I turn to glance back out at the remaining cars in the parking lot, a rising sense of panic only eased when I see his black beamer still waiting for him outside.

"Do you have a meeting with someone in particular?" I whirl back to find myself staring directly into the eyes of the alarmingly handsome Sidney Crosby. I swallow the surprised cry that threatens to burst from my lips and remind myself that he, probably more than anyone else, could raise the cry of alarm that would bring security running.

"Yes," I manage to reply, pushing the answer out between my lips in what sounds almost like a croak. "Yes, I'm here to see Jarkko," I add, taking a couple of quick breaths to swallow the panic rising again in my chest.

"Oh," he smiles, a look of disappointment flashing across his face as he digs into his pocket and pulls out a blackberry. "I can call him, or…," his full lips curl into a thoughtful smile, "I could wait here, with you?" I shrug. What else can I do? "So…what's he done now? Don't tell me," he smiles brightly, laugh lines deepening around his cinnamon coloured eyes, "Kovalchuk's suing him or…?" He looks at me expectantly, and then I realize I'm carrying my leather book bag which looks an awful lot like a briefcase, well, that _was_ the idea anyway.

"No," I smile at him, feeling the blood rush into my cheeks all at once, "nothing like that, I hope, anyway," I add, considering it always seems like a possibility in this day and age. "We have a date," I continue, keeping my voice low and glancing around us to see who might be listening, especially if it's a tall muscular Fin who doesn't know about my plans, yet anyways.

"Oh," Sidney swallows and his eyes go a little round before he manages to get his expression under control. "Oh…you must be Carmen," he adds, holding his hand out and grasping mine in it. I watch my hand disappear into his meaty one, and feel him almost crush the bones in my hand before he realizes I'm not squeezing back.

"Carman Yang," I smile a little too brightly, wondering why he knows my name and why that makes him want to crush my hand.

"I heard Big Georges and Army talking about you," he says by way of an explanation and then starts to laugh when I look over at him, confused. "In a good way," he adds.

"I'm glad to hear that?" I cough, not at all sure if I should be or not. I had sort of hoped it would have been Jarkko saying good things about me but, what can you do?

"They were definitely right though," he continues, giving me a sort of once over that leaves my skin prickling like I've been jump started, "you're very… exceptional." He draws the word out, rolling it around his tongue as he thinks about it before his eyes dart back up to meet mine through his long eyelashes. "Jarkko's a very lucky man."

I open my mouth to ask him what he means by that or to thank him, I'm not really sure which, because I don't get the time to think about it, because I hear that voice, that accent, and my gaze is drawn over Sid's round shoulders to see him striding across the hallway, talking animatedly to Georges Laraque, laughing, his face lit from within. I watch his lips spread wide as he sees me, watch his gaze hold on mine and I forget everything else, even that I should be mad at him, as he brushes past Sid like he's not even there, and walks right up to me, cupping my chin in his big fingers, tipping it up and crushing my lips beneath his.

* * *

Like some kind of vision out of a dream, she stands there dressed like some kind of sexy secretary, gazing at me through the lenses of her glasses, the ebony of her ponytail falling over the shoulder of her royal purple blazer, framing her ivory skin, and the pout of her red lips calling out to me as I move towards her, not sure, until I touch her skin that she's actually real.

It takes all the will power I have not to pull her hair out of the elastic to run my fingers through it and to leave it at one long kiss, when all I want to do is push her back against the wall and have her right there, have her long legs wrapped around me again, and this time, not to stop, not ever. But I do manage to step back, but I don't let go of her, I just look down at her, and I know that I've got this stupid grin on my face, but I can't help it, I'm just so glad she's here.

"I was going to call you," I begin, to which she rolls her dark eyes at me and purses her red lips, which are now slightly smudged, but I kind of like them like that, it makes her look hotter, ready, willing.

"I'm not very patient," she explains, her voice low and husky as she leans into my hand and smiles up at me. "But I'll only do this once, if you make me wait again…," I don't let her finish that thought, I lean in and kiss her until she stops trying to talk.

"Are you going to work or…?" she shakes her head, reaching up to pull my hand down, lacing her long thin fingers in mine.

"I should be in class," she whispers, going up on tip toe to say it in my ear, her breathe warm and wet as she runs the point of her tongue along my lobe, "but I can't concentrate." I can't help but look at her hopefully, hoping, no praying she means what I hope she means. "I have a table booked, I hope you're hungry."

"A table?" I sigh, thinking I'm hungry, yes, I've just worked out for about three hours, I'm starving but I'd forego the best steak in the world to have her long legs wrapped around me right now.

"Yes, a table," she giggles, reaching back to give my ass a strong swat that sends a tingle down my legs that makes it hard to stand for a second, which is not too surprising considering all the blood in my body has been heading directly south for a few minutes now. "Because we're getting to know each other, _right_?" she smiles, batting her long eyelashes at me innocently, and if I already didn't know better, I'd almost believe that butter wouldn't melt look on her face.

"Right," I sigh, digging my keys out of my pocket and reaching for her book bag which she's dropped on the floor sometime during our greeting. "Okay, dinner it is," I glance back to see Georges giving me the thumbs up and can't help but chuckle. Strange though, Sid's giving me this sort of glare, but I don't have time to think about it as Carmen gives me a little tug in the direction of the parking lot. "You are impatient aren't you?" I laugh, following her out, but not too quickly, I kind of like following her, those long legs in those stiletto heels…


	4. Chapter 4

C4

"I won't ask to come in," he smiles, that warm syrupy smile of his that makes me weak in the knees, and I'm glad of the solidness of the door to my apartment behind me, otherwise I think I would just plain old fall down. "I had a good time," he adds, leaning against the wall and stroking his hand down the side of my face, sending an electric shock straight through my body and right down to my toes.

"Good," I manage, digging my key into the palm of my hand to stop from squealing in delight as he leans in to press his soft lips over mine.

"When can I see you again?" he asks, his voice deep and husky and his breath warm on my cheek as he gently brushes his lips against my temple.

"I guess your schedule is pretty tight right now, going down the stretch," I reply, trying not to shiver outwardly as he curls my hair around his finger and nibbles at my earlobe. "I mean, I know you're pretty focused and…," his breathy chuckle kills the words in my throat and if that hadn't, the way he turns those big green orbs on me makes it so hard to breathe I don't think I could talk if wanted to.

"You sound like you don't want to see me," he smiles playfully, that Ruutu grin shining down on me like a moonbeam.

"Oh I do," I assure him, mustering up all of my courage and returning his playful gaze with a raised eyebrow, "I just don't want you blaming me when Therrien sends you to the press box because you're too tired to play."

"Is that right?" his grin widens, and I can't help but grin back at him, even as I try to give him what I hope is my best come hither smile. "So you're planning on tiring me out are you?" I watch his gaze drop slowly to my cleavage and then his big green eyes turn back slowly up to meet mine and just for a moment he blushes right to the tips of his ears.

"I could," I reply quietly, working up the courage to reach out and press the flat of my hand against his chest, feeling the rock hard muscle beneath the thin cotton of his shirt, "but then, you're kind of an old man and that might be easy to do," I continue, grabbing a handful of his shirt and pulling him closer, offering him my lips and pressing my chest to his at the same time.

* * *

She had to go there. I'm so hot right now, it was going to be hard enough to kiss her good night and go home to another cold shower, but now she's done it, thrown cold water all over me. It's not like I didn't realize that she's younger than me, I just didn't need reminding of it while her boobs are pressed up against me and her tongue is wrapped around mine. It's like sending my body mixed messages.

I take that back, my body doesn't care, it's my brain that's telling me to let go and back off and say good night and run for the safety of the car. I can't even turn around and look at her, I know she's going to have this hurt little disappointed look on her face, kind of like the one she had when I offered her the last strawberry off the cheesecake and then popped it into my mouth instead, like that, but worse.

Gripping the steering wheel hard and stomping on the gas, I take out my frustrations on the road. Women! It's always the same thing, come here, go away, I want you just not right now, it's not you it's me…they don't know what they want!

One minute we're having a good time, laughing, comparing my team mates to her class mates and sharing food and playing footsies under the table and even though I knew I wasn't going to be getting any, I was still happy about the way things were going. She's smart, beautiful, funny, and those legs….But then I'm just not thinking about how much younger she is, and how our lives are just so different. I don't even know what I was thinking, well I did, I was thinking about her curvy figure and her cute little smile. I was thinking with the little guy again…damn thing gets me in trouble every time.

I've seen what it can do to a guy to try and make it work with an age difference like that. They grow apart. It's inevitable.

If she just wanted to screw around, it would be different, but when she gives me that look with the big innocent eyes and the happy little grin…

That look….

I've seen that look before. It did the same thing to me then that it's doing to me now, messing with my head.

I can't believe I forgot all about it, about her, it's not like she's forgettable, but maybe I just blocked it out…but it comes back to me in bits and pieces every time I see her. I almost can't believe she's the same girl that hardly said a word to me that day, but I never forgot that sign, it was the first time anyone had made a sign in Finnish for me, and Mo just would not let me forget it either. I'll never forget how he said I finally had my first puck bunny. I can't believe I thought I was going to get lucky. It seems like I still can't catch a break.

Of course I'm the one running away and I'm the one who didn't come right out and ask her out back then either. I'm the one not being straight forward. She gave me the boundaries. I'm the one stepping over them, or away from them.

Slamming on the brakes, I pull over to the side of the road and lean my forehead against the steering wheel, closing my eyes I let out a long string of Finnish curses. Of all things, to get hung up on age when I'm playing with one of the youngest phenoms hockey has ever seen, the most grown up, most responsible kid I've ever met. Shit! Haven't I learned anything?

* * *

"GO AWAY!" I scream at the door, pulling the pillow tighter over my head, wishing I had the courage to actually smother myself with it.

"It's Jarkko." His muffled voice somehow makes it though the door and through the pillow to my ears, making my heart leap into my throat. I freeze, hardly daring to breathe quite sure it's my overactive imagination making me think I hear him calling. "Carmen, we need to talk." I roll my eyes behind my eyelids. The four words a single girl hates to hear, 'we need to talk', followed closely by 'it's not you it's me' and 'I need space'.

Reminding myself that I did uproot my entire life, left all of my friends behind and came down here to try and find out if what my friends had told me was true, I get up and drag myself towards the door, throwing the locks and pulling the door open before turning away and heading into the sanctuary of my wing back chair and huddling down in my Canucks throw. I watch him settle into the loveseat across from me, watch him clench his strong jaw, watch his gaze wander around the room, like he'd rather look at just about anything other than me, and who can blame him? I know I'm wearing more eyeliner on my cheeks than I am on my eyelids.

"I'm sorry for taking off like that," he says quietly, his accent sounding thicker than it had earlier in the evening. I don't forgive him for it, so I don't offer any forgiveness or reply, I just watch him watch me for a long, silent moment. "You confuse me, you know that? I'm just a simple guy Carmen, I don't play games."

"Games?" I cry out before I can edit myself or at least tone down my response.

"I don't mean games, _exactly_," he replies slowly before I have a chance to go on a tirade. "I just mean you've been sending me mixed signals since the first time we met and I don't know if you even know you're doing it, but I'm a guy and it's kind of hard on me." He looks up at me with those green eyes and those full lips, and my heart begins to thud so hard against my chest it gets hard to breathe.

"The first time?" I ask breathlessly, my voice sounding high and childlike as my eyes go round, the hope springing in my chest threatening to choke off my air.

"The parking lot at Eight Rinks," he sighs, rubbing his freshly shorn head, a sign of frustration. "You flirted, you batted your eyelashes at me and you had that damn red sign but you had no intention of following up on it did you?"

"You _do_ remember," I sniff, suddenly hearing the 'I told you so's' ringing in my head. He looks up at me quizzically, his emerald gaze searching my face like he doesn't understand my reaction. "I didn't think you really noticed me," I whisper, by way of explanation, only to see him shake his head as he gets up and stalks across the room, motioning for me to get up and then gathering me onto his lap, cradling me against his broad chest.

"How could I _not_ notice you?" he whispers, his strong arms holding me close, his heart beat mingling with mine. "All that soft ebony hair, like a raven's wing," he sighs, running his hand through it, spreading it out over my shoulder, "those pink lips," he adds, running the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip, sending a shudder straight through me, "those cute round baby cheeks of yours," he continues, pressing his lips to the apple of my cheek, "and those long, long legs," he concludes, running his hand up over my knee and along my thigh, up under my skirt until the palm of his hand slides over the lace of my thigh-highs. Pressing his forehead against mine, his green gaze searches mine, the plea clear in his eyes.

"It's not that I don't want to," I reiterate, my voice still sounding small and pinched, like I'm having to force it, and considering how hard it is to breathe with my heart hammering this hard, it's true. "I don't _want_ to be a puck fuck," I sigh, closing my eyes, unable to bear that hopeful little boy look he's giving me.

"You're not, you wouldn't be," he sighs, running his hand back down to the safety of my knee but just as I begin to relax, his hand roams up the inside of my thigh, this time hooking his fingers into the top of my thigh-high and rolling it down an inch or two. "Puck fucks only want to get at the other guys through me, but that's not what _you_ want." He turns his attention back up at me like he's asking a question. I shake my head wordlessly, not sure if I trust myself to speak. "I haven't been able to think about anything else but you," he continues, turning his attention back to my leg, working my stocking down by degrees, rolling it carefully, deliberately.

"I want you to want _me_," I whisper, my voice sounding strangled now, choking on a mix between desire and fear, "not just what's outside."

"You think I don't want the same, for someone to want me for more than my pay cheque, for more than my name?" he asks, pushing my stocking down over my knee and moving to my other thigh, his fingers warm against my skin. "I wanted you then and I want you now," he whispers, pushing my second stocking past my knee and letting it pool around my ankle, "but now I want to hear your giggle, I want to see you smile, I care how you feel," he adds, running his hand back up my leg, slowly, sending goose bumps racing over my skin.

"But you keep running Jarkko and I don't want to fall in love with someone who runs away every time there's a problem," I groan, unraveling myself from his arms and almost tripping over my stockings as I stumble away from him. "I think you should go before I do something I'll regret in the morning." I wince when I say it, not liking the way it sounds coming out of my mouth. "I want to fall in love with you Jarkko," I add quickly when he looks up at me with these big sad eyes that make my chest hurt, "but I need to know that I can depend on you."

I expect him to argue, I prepare myself for some sort of protest, but instead he just gets up and nods, turning away from me with hunched shoulders as he walks back towards the door without a word. I know I can't let him leave this way, so I struggle out of my stockings, leaving them in a pile in the middle of the floor and run to grab him, pressing my cheek to the middle of his back, holding him in a bear hug.

"Give me a little time," he sighs, running his big hands over mine across his chest.

"All the time you want," I sigh, giving him a gentle squeeze. He nods again, and then reaches for the door, only turning back when it's open, reaching out to cup my cheek, drawing my lips tenderly up to his, for one long soft kiss, and then he's gone.


	5. Chapter 5

C5

"That HURT!!" Talbot crawls to his feet and drops his glove, facing me with his little fists raised. I give him my 'you can't handle this' look and turn and skate away. I know it hurt. It was meant to.

"What's with you and the little Frenchman?" Gonch asks, glancing over his shoulder at Talbie as he continues to rage at me en Francais.

"Nothing," I reply with a shrug.

"So you put him into the boards like that _because_…?"

"Because I can," I answer, not to be a smart aleck, but just because I don't really know why. I just know I'm aggravated, frustrated and generally pissed off right now.

"Women huh?" Gronk says knowingly, winking at me as he skates by. Yeah, like that kid would know.

"Is this still about Carmen?" Georges asks, gathering himself into our little group.

"No," I lie, because I don't know how to begin explaining these…feelings I have in my head that are making me see red all the time.

"I can see why you don't have a wife," Georges continues, as if he hasn't even heard my denial. "These women really fuck with your head. Don't get me wrong, I like what they do for your game mon ami, but for you personally?" he shakes his head, sending his corn rows swaying. "Not that I'm offering but maybe you should consider going gay." Gonch nearly skates head first into the boards, but Georges just turns and starts skating backwards, laughing as I lunge at him.

* * *

I don't know why I keep looking up every time I hear that bell over the door go, but I do. I guess I'm hoping he'll come in. This radio silence is starting to grate on my last nerve. It's not like I have time to deal with drama. I have mid terms and term papers and quizzes and lectures…I don't have time for personal drama.

Not that I wouldn't gladly miss any and all of those things for him. I would, he knows I would. If he walked through those doors right now, I would happily shut my book on Wills and Estates and miss my quiz this afternoon and spend the rest of the day with him. If only he would even call. I keep telling myself that he knows where to find me, he knows where I live and he seems to want me, that, at the very least, seems clear enough.

I look at the email blinking in front of me, my fingers poised above the keyboard to answer it when the bell dingles again and it's a Pens player, just not the one I was waiting for. I manage to duck my head behind the screen of my laptop before his gaze swivels in my direction.

"Army said they had good coffee here," he says plunking himself down across the table from me, so much for my attempt at subterfuge.

"You don't drink coffee," I point out without looking up.

"How'd you know that?" he asks, sounding amused and a little surprised. Yeah, how _do_ I know that?

"Jarkko must have said something," I mutter, running my finger down a line of words, like I'm reading it, which I'm not.

"How are you and Ruuts?" he asks, sounding interested and upbeat, an easy open smile clear in his voice, which makes me look up into his cinnamon coloured eyes, big mistake.

"I'm not sure," I reply honestly, not sure why I feel the sudden need to tell him, his team mate, a complete stranger.

"Oh?" his eyes widen, but he smiles, as if he can't quite help smiling, like he's used to doing it all the time, like it's what he does naturally. He's so boyishly handsome it's hard to hold it against him, but I tell myself I should try.

"I don't know, I'm sure you're all very busy," I add, dragging my gaze off of his plump pink lips and high cheekbones, forcing my gaze back to the screen.

"He's an odd guy, Ruuts," he says conversationally, the slight creak of the chair telling me he's adjusting his position, which makes me think about his generous skater butt, which makes me wince. "It took me a while to get to know him, but I like him, he's a good guy. Funny," he adds, as if the entire world doesn't already know that about Jarkko. I nod, because we're having polite conversation and that seems like the right thing to do. "He's a bit moody though, intense," he continues, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table, like he's keeping time to something playing in his head, or he needs something to do, I'm thinking the latter.

"Yes, well, it's dark in Finland a lot," I reply, flinching internally at the way I'm automatically defending him, like I have a right to.

"Yeah, well that explains while they're all a bit crazy," he chuckles, a higher than you'd expect sound coming from him. "Have you ever noticed how many Finnish goaltenders there are?"

"I have," I reply, smiling despite myself. "I've heard goalies are all a bit…off," I add, glancing up to see his smile broaden, showing a row of perfect white teeth, deepening dimples and laugh lines creasing around his eyes.

"They are, believe me. I think Fleur is the most normal goalie I know and he's still a bit…," he waves his finger in a circular motion beside his head, drawing my attention up to his unruly dark waves. "So what are we studying?" he asks suddenly, grabbing my text book and turning it around, his gaze scanning the pages, his brow furrowing as his lips move as he reads his way across the pages. "Wills…depressing," he chuckles, giving a mock shiver as he looks back up at me, his boyish smile returning.

"Very dry too," I sigh, reaching for my coffee to whet my lips, only to realize it's empty.

"Let me get you another one," he grins brightly, jumping to his feet and reaching into his back pocket, my gaze following his hand down to the way his jeans fit snugly around his thighs, and to the…obvious package…. "What is it, latte? Macchiato?"

"Mocha," I reply quietly, snapping my gaze back to the screen of my lap top, "_with_ whip."

"I like sweet," he chuckles, tapping his wallet against the edge of the table, "I'll be right back."

* * *

I watch her round cheeks turn pink, watch her settle her long fingers over the keyboard, the blood red of her nails beginning to fly over the keys, and grin to myself. So there's trouble in paradise, this might not be as hard as I was expecting it to be.

"What are you doing Croz?" a voice hisses in my ear as I get in line. I glance over my shoulder to see Gronk slide into line behind me.

"Just buying coffee," I shrug, only to see him roll his big baby blues at me.

"I'm pretty sure Ruuts might not see it that way," he adds with a shake of his head at me.

"You know me Gronk," I smile, glancing back at the way she curls her long dark hair around her finger as she leans over her text book, her long legs crossed under the table, the pointed toe of her boot tapping against the leg of the table, "I like winning, and I'm used to getting what I want, and I want her."

"Just tell me when to duck," he groans, shaking his head again as the barista asks for my order. I just grin back at Jordy and then hand the barista my card, adding a large ice tea to the order, and offering to pay for anything Jordy wants.

"As long as you keep your mouth shut," I add, looking him dead in the eye.

"Aye, aye Captain," he sighs, glancing back at her as she steals a glance in our direction, only to go bright pink as I wave back at her.

"Can I help it if women find me irresistible?"


	6. Chapter 6

C6

"You coming with us?" Georges asks, his smile bright as he tosses his suit bag over his shoulder. "C'mon man, put the weights down and come for some beers, relax damn you." I shake my head at him, going back to the dumbbells and looking for a heavier set, good to work my frustrations out on.

"So don't come with us, go phone her or something," Hossa adds, leaning in the doorway looking smooth and well put together. Easy for him to say.

"We've talked," I grunt as I lift up a twenty pounder and begin a set of curls, "but like I said, we're taking it…easy," I grunt again, feeling the burn in my chest and biceps and liking it.

"Sounds boring," Georges laughs, shaking his head at me.

"Like being stuck with the old man," Hossa adds, looking over at Roberts who's sweating on the bench next to me.

"Hey less of the old man," he laughs, keeping pace with me, making me think I need to add some weight.

"So asking the poor girl out to dinner is like taking it too far? Too risky?" Hossa asks, chuckling at me as I roll my eyes at his sarcasm.

"She's busy with exams," I sigh, grabbing the next set of weights and groaning as my biceps burn even more, "but I did tell her if she was free to come down and meet me, and she hasn't so what does that say?"

"That she's busy man, that's all," Georges smiles sympathetically. "When are her exams over? Or can she come to the game after class? Or maybe you can go to her place after the game eh Tiger?" he laughs when I grimace at him and curse in Finnish.

"Hey, if I wanted a social secretary I'd get one prettier than you, okay?" I sigh, waving him off. "Go, have beer. We'll come later, won't we old man?"

"Not you too," Roberts moans, shaking his fist at me before heading for the bikes for a while. I watch him go and then turn and see that the boys are gone from the door too. It occurs to me that I should have maybe walked out with them just in case she did come today, but then I shake my head. She hasn't come all week, why would she come today?

* * *

She's standing just outside the barricades gnawing on her nails and looking around at all the puck bunnies in their pink jerseys with their hopeful signs and their blonde dye jobs, and even with the cold and the wind she looks like a million dollars. Her hair is up in a simple pony tail, and she's wearing a long black jacket with a red scarf and gloves, with simple black boots, but she looks like she could have just stepped out of Vogue magazine. I don't have to explain myself to Fleur or Gronk as I walk away from them and head towards and through the barriers as the security makes way for me.

"I was just thinking about you," I grin, watching as that cute pink tone warms her round cheeks.

"I was uh…I was waiting for Jarkko," she shrugs, looking sheepish.

"Oh," I feel deflated for a moment and then it's my turn to shrug. "I know he was planning on doing some weights and then a steam or something," I turn back towards the doors praying they stay closed. "I could get you back in there if you want…?"

"No…," she sighs, her shoulders falling, "I just stopped by, it's not like he was expecting me or anything." She lifts her scarf, adjusting it and pulling it tighter to her neck. "I just wanted to see if he wanted lunch or something, although I suppose it's a bit late for that," she sighs, glancing down at her phone before putting it back in her purse.

"I could eat, in fact, I was just thinking about grabbing something," I grin at her, offering her my arm. "I'd much rather have company, you?" She smiles, nodding, but giving one more hopeful look towards those doors. I have to wipe him out of her mind somehow, really sweep her off her feet. I'm not used to sharing attention, and I never share women. "Do you like Italian?" I ask, leading her towards my SUV.

"I do," she smiles, finally turning her attention fully on me as a general groan goes up among the puck bunnies as we leave them behind the barricades.

"Good, I know this great little place, family run, real rustic Italian. I think you'll like it," I promise, holding the passenger door open for her and watching as she climbs in, giving me a good long look at her milky thigh before she resettles her coat over her long legs.

"Well I guess you know the good places around her by now. Unless it's take out pizza, I'm afraid I'm a little lost," she admits, giving me a warm smile as I go to gently shut the door.

"Well we'll just have to fix that won't we?" I chuckle to myself as I walk around the car. I know all the best romantic little places a guy can have a private romantic candle lit dinner and I'll take her to every one of them if I have to until that haunted look leaves her eyes and that damn Fin is out of her heart.

* * *

It's not that I don't know what the other girls are talking about when they swoon over Sidney, it's just that I always assumed he was just very young and would act very young and while I like to have fun as much as the next girl, I'm not one for college pranks and beer bongs. Why I just assumed that his being twenty made him into some kind of beer guzzling Phi Bet Gamma College loser, I don't know. Could be some of those pictures I've seen on the net of Jordan Staal and his brothers.

What I see over the table and through the flickering candle light, is a mature young man, and more than that, a very sexy man at that. I'd always thought he was cute, but cute in that sort of grab his cheeks and shake him like he's your errant nephew sort of cute. But what I see now is a confident young man with laughing eyes and deep dimples, a toothy grin and a sophisticated flair, and by the time desert is being served, I'm afraid I'm almost entirely at the mercy of his burnt caramel coloured eyes.

I'd liked the way Jarkko had checked each course with me, had verified his wine choices, had discussed the menu before we ordered and normally I'd be enraged at a man who even assumed I wanted wine with dinner, but for some reason, I was almost turned on by the poised manner with which Sidney ordered everything, including the wine, his utter conviction and masculine swagger leaving me breathless, unable to argue. And everything was exquisite, including each of the wines, of which I think there were three, I've lost count.

Now, as he tells yet another tale of life on the road with the bunch of crazies on his team, I find myself watching him rather than listening, although he's been both charming and funny all night. I don't know if it's the candle light, all the wine or the semi dark of the restaurant, but I find myself gazing at him over the rim of my glass, wondering what it would be like to kiss those soft plump pink lips.

"Did you want to go somewhere else?" he asks suddenly, stopping mid story and cocking his head to one side to look at me.

"Um…I don't know, I suppose we could," I reply slowly, blinking back to reality as I try to make my mind work on that question.

"It's just…you were a million miles away just then," he smiles warmly, reaching over to touch his fingertips to mine, and their warmth sends a shockwave down my arm.

"Not so far," I admit, blushing as I duck behind my glass, glancing around the restaurant to see if anyone is near enough to notice my predicament, but just as they have been all night, most of the wait staff is keeping a discrete distance.

"Because we could go somewhere to dance if you want," he suggests, lacing his fingers in mine and lifting my hand off the table and bringing it to his lips, brushing his mouth over the back of my hand, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I'm not much of a dancer, sober," I add, giggling a little at the idea of busting a move with him and watching the puck bunnies chomping at the bit around us.

"More wine?" he laughs, lifting the bottle from the table and offering the last glass worth to me. I shake my head, putting my hand over the lip of my glass.

"I think I've had enough," I sigh, rolling my shoulders as he lets go of my hand to signal the waiter and adjusting my self in the too comfortable over stuffed chairs. "I could probably go to sleep right here," I add, snuggling into the chair.

"Well we can't have that," he smiles warmly over at me. "I think I'd better get you up and moving. Maybe we can go to a bar and just watch other people dance and laugh at them, what do you think?"

"We could," I nod, catching the eye of the little boy who's been very politely watching us, wide eyed for the past hour or so. I'd seen his parents earlier asking if it would be okay to come over and the maitre-dis very sternly had told them no. I suppose having Sidney as a return client is probably important in this town. "Will you give that boy an autograph on the way out?" I ask, my gaze returning to find Sidney watching me, which makes me squirm in my chair.

"If you want me to," he says quietly. "I don't usually when I'm out socially," he adds, his smile faltering, "I wouldn't want you to feel like you had anything less than my full attention." I feel my heart thudding hard in my chest as his gaze sweeps over me, with a look in his eye that makes me feel like I could be sitting her naked.

"Well he has been really good. I mean, I bet a lot of kids, even if they're told no would have come over anyway," I point out, wanting to drag the attention back to the kid and off of me.

"You're absolutely right. I remember being that kid," he smiles, digging into his pocket for a hockey card and handing it across the table to me. "Do you want to do the honors?"

"Me?" I whisper, taking the signed card and blinking rapidly.

"Sure, you watch, it will make his day. It's actually a lot of fun," he adds as he signs the bill and takes back his credit card, slipping it into his wallet. I watch him get up, watch the graceful unfolding of his strong solid limbs and find myself biting on my bottom lip as he offers my jacket to me, wrapping it around me carefully before pressing his lips to my cheek. "This was nice. We'll have to come back here."

"Yes," I answer quietly, my voice stuck somewhere in my tightening chest as his hand covers mind, surrounding it as his fingers lace with mine. I let him lead me towards the table the kid is sitting at, watching his eyes get impossibly wider the closer we get.

"Is that…Sidney Crosby?" the kid whispers to me behind his hand, like Sidney might not hear him standing right there.

"It is," I smile down into his big green eyes, thinking for just a moment how they remind me of someone else's. "Would you like an autograph?" I ask, watching his eyes get even bigger as his mouth drops open.

"Yeah?" he asks as I pull out the card and hand it over to Sidney who takes a pen that's offered from one of the wait staff.

"What's your name little buddy?" he asks, bending to get to the kid's level, and I wince as I think about his ankle as he puts his weight over his toes. But soon I don't think about his ankle, I think about the way he only has eyes for that kid in this moment, how he makes that kid feel like he's his whole world, that it's just the two of them, as he asks him if he plays hockey and what position, and who his favourite player is, as if there was going to be any other answer other than him. Finally, as he straightens and musses the kid's blonde hair, he turns those brown eyes on me, and I feel like I could melt in the sunshine of his smile.

* * *

I can tell by the way she's gone quiet that she's thinking things over. I hope she's thinking of me and not him. I could see in her eyes a new softness, a sort of tenderness when I was talking to that little boy in the restaurant. I couldn't have planned that better if I'd actually planned it to happen that way myself.

Reaching over, I curl my hand around hers' and detect a slow smile spreading across her lips when I glance over at her. I'd thought about kissing her when we left the restaurant, but I wasn't sure if she wanted me to yet. Now, as she glances down at our intertwined hands, I feel sure that she does, so as I pull the Land Rover into the parking lot at the bar, I lift her hand to my lips and watch her bat her eyelashes shyly at me.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?" I ask, certain, even in the dark of the vehicle that she's blushing madly. "You still want to go in?" I ask, feeling hopeful she might not.

"What kind of music did you say they play here?" she asks quickly, turning and putting her hand on the door.

"Finger Eleven played here once," I reply just as quickly, swinging out of my door and jogging around to the passenger side, making it in time to give her a hand out, and pulling her close at the same time. Her gaze searches mine for a long moment, like she's not sure what I'm doing. Then I kiss her, softly, waiting for her to respond as I slide my hands around her waist, bringing her body closer to mine.

Her lips part beneath mine and the kiss deepens, sending shockwaves through my body, until every nerve ending is one fire and it takes all the will power I have not to push for more than this. I could easily spook her now, could easily send her running back to him, so I have to take my time, make her comfortable, I have to make her want this as much as I do. Slowly withdrawing, I reach up to brush my fingers through her hair and I feel her shiver beneath my fingertips.

"Ready to go in?" I ask her quietly, watching her eyelashes flutter open as a slow lazy smile spreads across her face. She nods, accepting my hand, and together we walk into the club, boyfriend and girlfriend.

* * *

"Dude, I was beginning to think you fell in!" Talbie laughs, handing me another pint as I look down at my still not blinking or ringing cell phone. I've left her two messages; still nothing.

"You keep giving me more beer and I'll keep having to pee," I grumble, leaning on the bar and staring into the bottom of my ale like it's going to suddenly give me all the answers I'm looking for.

"Well keep being a miserable bastard and I will!" he replies, giving me a shove. I should be glad that we made up our differences earlier but right now I'm beginning to regret it. I should have gone home and watched TV or something that would have taken my mind off of Carmen, instead of coming here and watching the brats chase puck bunnies.

"What do we have to do to get you to smile little buddy?" Georges asks, leaning against the bar beside me. "Wanna pick a fight with someone?" I glance up at him, feeling the shadow of a grin pull at my mouth as he scans the room. "There's got to be someone here your size, let me see." I shake my head at him and go back to staring into my beer but when he doesn't continue the running dialogue, I glance to see what he's looking at, and feel my heart turn to stone.

"What the _hell_ is he doing with her?" It's my voice, but it seems like I'm not in my body, like I'm not the one saying it, like I'm watching my hands curl into fists as I watch him lead her through the crowd, her hand in his, a big shit eating grin on his face that I want to knock of his fucking head but I'm not moving, I'm just staring. Then I realize that Georges and Max are holding onto me, keeping me from tearing him limb from limb as Gronk and Fleur vacate a table, making room for them.

"You can't kill him," Max hisses, stepping in front of me as he leans in and whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh, makes her smile over at him. "Like it or not, you can't. He's the captain."

"He's right," Georges sighs, keeping an iron grip on my arm as Sid lifts her hand to his and presses his fat lips on the back of her hand. "They might not be able to trade you now, but they can sure as hell sit your ass for the playoffs if they want to."

I know that they're right, but it doesn't make me want to kill him any less, especially when he looks right over at me with a self satisfied smile, and then turns and drops a kiss onto her succulent red mouth.

"I'm not fucking sitting here watching this," I snarl, pounding my beer back and heading for the exit. I should have gone home. I knew I should have never come out tonight.


	7. Chapter 7

C7

I've never thought of myself as having 'a type' other than he has to be taller than me, and being five foot eleven, that limits my choices right away, so I've never been that choosy. That and being this overly tall sort of Amazon that sticks out in a crowd, I've always sort of tried not bring that much attention on to myself, always tried to go with a sort of conservative look, or, as some of my friends would say, hide behind oversized shirts and boyish jeans.

But losing the chance at being with the man of my dreams, well that was a knock out punch for the old me, almost. If he looked twice at me in a jersey three sizes too big for me and jeans that hung off me like burlap sacks, then I told myself that he would damn well drool over me in short skirts and knee high boots.

And it worked, maybe too well and now, with Sidney Crosby walking me to my door, my head is absolutely swimming with confusing thoughts. Attracting Jarkko is one thing, he's not exactly a pretty boy and I've been asked more than once why I'm so attracted to him, which I guess means it isn't obvious to everyone else, which is actually kinda fine with me. If they can't see his wide sensuous mouth, his glittering green eyes and his stop traffic smile as sexy, well I don't know what else to say. But Sidney…

Not only is he poster boy for the NHL but he's a poster boy period, with thousands of adoring female fans literally willing to lay down their virginity at the feet of the boy prodigy. I've never been immune to his looks, his bite-able bubble gum pink lips and his porcelain skin, but I've never thought of him as 'my type'. Of course I never thought he would ever look at me the way he's looking at me now as he takes my hands in his and turns me to face him in the dim light of the hall.

"I had a really good time with you tonight. I'm glad you liked everyone," he adds, running the pad of his thumb over the back of my hand.

"It was fun, seeing you guys out of your element," I reply quietly, feeling a quaking begin in my joints as he leans in to kiss me again.

"I hope we can do this again soon," he smiles, his lips almost touching mine.

"Sure," I manage to squeak, half of me wanting him to kiss me, and half of me wanting to turn and run into my apartment to hide my head under my pillow where I can let the scream that's been building in my chest go.

"I'd be honored," he whispers as his lips touch mine, softly, with little butterfly kisses that leave me weak kneed and gasping for breath as he leans over my hand and brushes his lips over the back of my hand. "I'll call you soon," he adds, taking his cell phone out of it's holder on his belt and waving it at me, reminding me of how he put my digits into the phone which makes my cheeks burn. B.C.Carmen. I had thought it meant that I was from British Columbia. He's chuckled and corrected me, had told me it meant beautiful and charming Carmen.

I watch him walk down the hall, my heart fluttering against my ribs as he turns and gives me a wink before he steps into the elevator. I grip my keys tightly and lean against my door, sure my legs aren't going to support me, until my neighbor comes out of her door with her little yappy dog and gives me that look, the raised eyebrows like 'another boy?'. Wrinkling my nose at her, I turn and go into my apartment. I have a date with a pillow.

* * *

I knew all night that this was how this would end. I've heard enough of the guys teasing Ruuts about not getting any, about having to take it slowly with her that I knew not to push for an invite into her boudoir, but that doesn't mean I'm not frustrated. Aiming my Land Rover along the city streets, I head for the 'burbs with visions of her long shapely legs and high firm breasts flooding my thoughts.

I feel confident that she won't be able to stop thinking about this date for days, which is good, because we have a little road trip coming up and I won't be able to reinforce the thoughts I've put in her pretty little head tonight, except by text and email, and I plan to do just that, beginning tomorrow.

But tonight I know that Jordy and Talbie and some of the other guys are already getting their legs over pretty young things they picked up at the bar. None as pretty as Carmen, but still, I don't plan on being left out. Aiming my headlights down a dark side road, I pull it to a stop outside of a small house, hidden from the street by shrubs and tall trees. Secluded and private, it makes for a perfectly private love nest.

I don't even have to knock or ring the bell; she's already there, standing in the open door in a black satin and lace wrap, reaching back to let down her long dark hair. Holding her hand out to me, she lets me pull her to me, pushing the door shut with my foot as I enfold her in a passionate embrace, pushing her back into the house as I slide my hand over her breast, feeling her nipple peak beneath my palm as I wrap my tongue around hers'.

I don't always come here, but I know that I can, and I know she'll be waiting. I don't have to be anything here, especially not a gentleman as I pick her up and drop her onto the black satin sheets of her bed, only to find her grinning up at me, her body open and inviting as I drop her kimono to the floor.

Looking at Jen you wouldn't think that she's a female firefighter, putting her life in danger every day, able to carry a guy my size out of a burning building without breaking a sweat. Looking at her now she looks like a teenage boys' wet dream in black heels and a garter belt, with matching black lace panties and no bra, her plump round breasts with their pink peaks like cherries on top of a vanilla sundae. Licking my lips, I tug off my tie and toe out of my shoes as she watches, not even attempting to hide her desire as her dark eyes rake over me expectantly. She doesn't reach out to help, we don't do that anymore. It's quicker like this, and besides, it's all business.

That's what's so perfect about this little arrangement. She doesn't want a relationship and neither do I. It's so good not to have to do the small talk, and even better not to have to be the good boy everyone expects me to be all the time. I get so tired of being nice, tired of being polite to everyone all the time and Jen expects neither from me. Ever since the first night we met at that charity fund raiser, she didn't want to talk, she wasn't interested in any of those lines we guys use, she didn't even care about who I was, we were just immediately attracted to one another and did what comes naturally and it's been that way ever since, no expectations and no strings. She doesn't want anyone worrying about her while she's doing her four days on, she doesn't want anyone checking up on her, and that's fine with me, I don't have time to think about anyone else right now.

Except maybe Carmen, but even her curves disappear from my mind as I step out of my suit pants and kick them aside, climbing onto the slick black sheets as she giggles and reaches out for me, offering her full red lips as I slide my hand down over her ample hip and snap her garters open, pushing her stockings down with one hand as I play with her nipple with the other.

I've learned almost everything I know about sex from Jen. Being with her is nothing like the groping in the dark kids stuff I'd done before. She's so uninhibited, she tells me what she wants, guides me when I'm not sure, and the stuff she's done to me, well some of it would make even Bugsy blush. So when she guides my hand down between her legs with her hand, I know what she wants, but I still like to watch her bite down on her bottom lip to be sure I'm pressing hard enough, or if it's too fast or too slow.

If anyone knew about this, even my team mates wouldn't believe it. The quiet polite Canadian kid, that's what they all think. If they could see me now, biting her neck as I slam into her, saying every dirty, filthy thing that comes to mind…

God it's good to have a booty call.

* * *

So she really was looking to get to Sidney through me. I wish I didn't feel so surprised. I wish I didn't feel hurt by it. I should have known better, I should have gone with my gut instinct. What would a gorgeous smart girl like that want with me anyways? Staring into the mirror, my toothbrush in my hand, I can see the grays coming in my beard, the fine lines around my eyes, all the scar tissue building up around my cheekbones, the scars zig-zagging my face. I'm a mess, and I'm not getting any younger or any prettier. Not like Sidney, the rich little pretty boy that all the girls scream over.

I wanted to believe her…I _did_ believe her when she said she wanted me, but watching them kiss tonight…it twisted my gut. She said she wanted to be in love with me and it was scary and wonderful all at the same time. I guess I just made the same mistake again, picking a girl too pretty and too smart for me. Smart enough to make me look like a jerk.

I guess what they say about nice guys finishing last is really true. As long as I keep being nice I'm going to get walked all over, at least that's what Mikko keeps telling me. He says I should be like I am out on the ice, I should be the tough guy, not let my guard down so soon. I guess it's time I listened.

I could go over there now, to her place, demand an explanation…

But then _he_ might be there.

Putting my toothbrush down before I break it, I grip the edge of the sink until my knuckles turn white. If I found him with her…I'd better not go tonight. I don't want to be charged for murder.

Slamming my hand against the edge of the sink so hard that it hurts, hard enough that it feels like something might actually be broken; I grimace at myself in the mirror. I shouldn't feel this way. I should hate her. I shouldn't care if she's with him. So why do I? Why do I want to go over there and demand she explain why she lied to me?

I need to clear my head.

There's two things that help me do that; weights and running, and considering I've screwed up my hand, at least for a while, I guess I better run until I can think straight.

* * *

When I hear the knock on the door, I'm half dreaming already, so I think it has something to do with that and ignore it, until it gets insistent and only then do I drag myself up and out of bed. Grabbing my fuzzy bathrobe and trying to wipe the sleep from my eyes, I head for the door, trying to think what kind of emergency my busy body neighbor might be having with her yappy little mutt, I'm definitely not expecting for the hallway light to be blocked out by a pair of wide shoulders, or to have my arm grabbed and be frog marched into my apartment and pinned against the wall.

"Jarkko…what the fuck?" I whimper, half wincing in pain, half unable to speak beyond the thudding of my heart.

"Is he here?" he growls, glancing around the darkened apartment with murder in his green eyes, making them seem more jewel green than jade. Blinking the remnants of sleep from my eyes, I try and think of why he would be in sweats this early but then I realize that from the rank way he smells, and the sweat dripping from his chin, I would guess he ran all the way here

"Is who here? And let go of me, that hurts," I sniff, reaching for my wrist with my free hand, trying to pry his fingers loose. Half afraid and half incredibly turned on by the masculine smell of him, the carefully controlled rage and the masterful way he's holding me. I feel like I've just woken up in the middle of one of those bodice rippers, with Jarkko playing the part of the muscular pirate on the run from the navy.

"Sidney," he hisses his name, his gaze finally meeting mine, boring into me like a knife, making me flinch and want very much to back away from him, except I can't, because of the grip he's got on me, and the way his chest is pressing against mine.

"He's not here," I snap, glaring up at him, feeling deeply offended that he thinks I'd just give it up like that to Sidney. "Is that what you thought? That I'd be fucking him right now? Is that why you're here?" I watch him grind his teeth, like he's not sure he believes as he makes one more visual sweep of the room, and then he lets me go, dropping his head and suddenly looking remorseful as he backs away from me.

"Maybe," he mutters, glancing up at me quickly, his gaze falling on my wrist as I rub it, trying to erase the feeling of his fingers or at least the tenderness they've left behind.

"Do you want to go look in my closet? Maybe under my doormat?" I snap, hands on my hips, trying to look back at him defiantly while at the same time trying very hard not to cry, even though I can feel the tears beginning to well up behind my eyes.

"No," he mumbles, slumping against the far wall, his head hung down, his hands limp at his sides.

"Why _are_ you here Jarkko?" I ask quietly, my immediate fright and anger beginning to fade in the face of his obvious distress.

"Right now, I don't know," he replies quietly, leaning his head to one side and biting down on the collar of his sweatshirt. As my gaze falls to the way his sweat soaked shirt clings to his muscular chest, I suddenly feel self conscious of my thermal jammies and blue fuzzy bathrobe. I begin picking at the lint on my bathrobe when I feel his eyes on me and I look up to find his gaze riveted to mine. I open my mouth to ask him what he's looking at, thinking it couldn't possibly be me in this horrible outfit but before I even get a single syllable out, his lips are crushing mine and he has me pressed up to the wall, the length of his hard body pressed up against mine.

"Jarkko I…," I begin as his lips trail down to my neck, but my voice trails away into a whimper as his teeth graze my carotid artery, sending waves of ecstasy through my veins.

"Don't tell me that thing about milk and a cow," he grumbles, untying my robe and pushing it down over my shoulders before moving his fingers to the buttons on my pajama top. I open my mouth to object to his assumption but it strikes me as funny instead and it's all I can do to stop myself from giggling as watch him fumble with the buttons. "What? What?" he looks up at me, his glasses slightly fogged and his expression somewhere between ferocity and frustration.

"Nothing," I whisper, carefully putting my fingers over his and helping him to undo the last two buttons and then it seems like we both hold our breath as his hands slowly push my pajama top over my shoulders. Shuddering, I close my eyes and just feel as his lips blaze a fiery trail down my neck and over my shoulders as his hands slide down gently over my breasts, as he rolls my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. I almost can't believe how gentle his hands are, but just as I'm beginning to float on a wave of sheer bliss, his teeth bite down on my shoulder, hard enough that it I have to suck in a deep breath or curse out loud, hard enough that I know it will leave a mark and then his body presses against mine again, making it all too clear that he won't be taking no for an answer this time.

His teeth dig into my neck and his fingers press into my flesh, like he's intentionally marking me and it only deepens my arousal as his body grinds against mine, forcing my back into the wall, flattening me against the solid mass of his chest. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I use him as leverage to pull myself up, giving him access to what I know he wants and what I now want more than I ever have before.

Whether it's the left over excitement of kissing Sidney, of being literally swept off my feet, or the fear of finding someone at my door in the middle of the night or being woken from a dream, it doesn't occur to me to say no. Somehow his one syllable answers and his brooding anger has my heart beating double time, and my body wet and willing as he pulls off my pajama bottoms, and his sweat pants with them, and pushes himself into me, slamming my body into the wall, his hip bones meeting mine as if he could somehow force himself through me.

I don't even have time to yelp as he stretches me wider, as he pulls my thighs up and around him, as he buries his face in my neck and groans my name over and over as my body slams into the wall, the sound of my bare ass slapping the wall music to my ears. I only have time to think that this might hurt later but right now, I can barely think of anything but how good it feels, of how hard he is, and how this is what I've wanted for so long.

* * *

I can't see, can't think straight, can't make myself understood. All I know is that I need her, have to have her, won't let anyone else touch her as I slam into her over and over again. I tell myself that this will make her understand, that she'll know that I want her, that I need her now. I know she wants it, she's wet and willing and as I feel her body tighten around mine, she whispers my name and then digs her nails into my back and screams, her orgasm pulling me along with her, and then I can't think at all, spots and stars dancing in front of my eyes as the wave of the orgasm pulls me under.

The next thing I know she's curled up next to me, on her couch, her head on my shoulder and her fingers trailing along my bicep, happily humming to herself.

"Should I…apologize?" I ask quietly, running my fingers through her hair as she sends goose bumps racing down my arm.

"No," she sighs, but this time it isn't an unhappy sound. "This isn't the way I want this to happen, exactly," she adds, but the look on her face tells another story. "Don't get me wrong, I wanted you, you have no idea," she smiles, reaching up to touch her fingertips gently to my cheek. "But when I thought about us…together," her smile widens to a grin even as some darker thought passes behind her equally dark eyes, "well I wasn't in my jammies, let's just leave it at that." I watch as just the corner of her mouth twitches back down until it's just the ghost of a smile, and there's something softer in her eyes, and then I lean my forehead against hers and sigh in pure contentment.

"You're making me crazy," I whisper quietly, her fingers stroking along my collar bone almost like she's not aware of it, like she would pet a cat, and if I were that cat, I'd be purring like mad.

"I know, and I'm sorry," she giggles, walking her fingers up his chest.

"I'm sorry too," I grumble, closing my eyes. "I didn't mean to accuse you of anything."

"How did you know, by the way?" she asks, lacing my fingers in hers and pulling her hand away from my collarbone before I melt into a puddle at her feet. I have to think about this for a moment, not wanting to ruin this idyllic little instant but then I realize she has to know.

"I saw you two, at the bar," I mutter, not liking the way it tastes to say it out loud.

"Oh," is all she can manage, her happy little grin utterly wiped out by my words. We stay like that for a while the only sound is our breathing, which is still heavy from our little exertion. I wait for her to look at me, for her to explain, but she just stays there, unmoving, and silent.

"Why were you with him?" I ask through clenched teeth, wishing to hell that I didn't have to actually ask it out loud.

"He asked," she replies simply, pushing herself away from me and grabbing for that Canucks throw of hers that just reminds me of before; of the last time I let her get away.

"Okay," I mumble, swallowing my pride as I reach out to pull her to me.

"Okay?" she asks, sounding bewildered as she turns those dark eyes of hers' up at me.

"Okay, so he asked and I didn't. You're not going to see him again," I state it, like it's fact, but even as the last words come out of my mouth, her eyes flash defiantly at me and she pulls away, her chin lifted, her eyes narrowed.

"Just because you fucked me, don't think that means you own me," she snaps, grabbing for her pajamas on the floor and pulling them against her bare skin, covering herself as best she can. "I think you'd better go."

"Carmen!" I sigh, dropping my head into my hands and letting out a long sigh. "Seriously…I just meant…."

"Just because I like that you took control of…_before_," she sniffs, looking towards the wall up against which we'd just made love, "doesn't mean you control me."

"I didn't mean…," her eyes narrow, but I'm sure I can see the glint of tears in them, even in the dark. "Fine Carmen, have it your way, tonight, but this isn't the end of this." I reach for her but she backs away from me again, looking towards the door, her round little chin still held high and defiant even as her bottom lip begins to quiver. "Carmen…," I try and soften my voice, try and think what to say to make this better, but she just points at the door and turns away from me.

So silently I gather my clothes, pulling them on haphazardly, and make a hasty exit. It's going to be a long jog home.


	8. Chapter 8

"I know, I know, the only vagina in the bunch is getting the coffees," a girl in a dark blue uniform rolls her eyes as I look over my laptop at her. In truth it was her bouncing pony tail that had distracted me from my position paper on child custody and state law. "Tell me about it," she adds with a warm grin.

"Men huh? Can't live with 'em, can't shoot 'em," I reply, glancing back down at the curser blinking in the middle of the screen, wishing that I could keep my mind on this paper, considering it _is_ due this afternoon and I've barely started it. I could blame Sidney, or Jarkko, but I really have no one to blame but myself.

"You'd think being the only woman working in a group of men would have some advantages but noooo," she continues, bouncing on her toes to get a look over the espresso machine to see how her line of cups is coming along.

"It's my experience lately that men are nothing but trouble," I agree, finding myself smiling up into her broad grin.

"God, tell me about it," she laughs, shaking her head. "Doesn't matter if you're working with them or dating them," she continues, jabbing a tall graying man in the same dark blue uniform as he walks up to her. "Isn't that right Cap?"

"How would you know? You don't date. All those good looking young men in the firehouse and you won't look at any of them."

"Hey _you _were the one who told me not to shit where I eat," she laughs, giving him a punch in the ribs and then turning to roll her eyes at me again. "Do you see what I have to put up with?"

"Like you'd need a bunch of guys knowing your business," I agree, and even as I do, a shiver runs down my spine. I can't even imagine what's going on in the dressing room this morning. Has Jarkko said anything to Sidney? Oh god, I hope they haven't gotten into a fight.

"Looks like you hit a nerve there," she nudges me, leaning in and keeping her voice low. I give her a little half smile before I turn back to my keyboard, trying to turn my attention to the task at hand. "Sorry, I don't mean to be so nosy. I guess just working with guys all day it's just such a relief to talk to a woman who understands." Her grin is infectious and I find that despite the swirl of emotions in my mind, I smile back at her as she leans on the edge of the table.

"I know what you mean," I sigh, "I don't actually know that many people in town and it's kind of nice to talk to someone without an agenda, you know?" she nods enthusiastically before glancing over her shoulder to see her Captain picking up the trays of coffee.

"My name's Jen, I work at the Mercy Hospital Fire house," holding her hand out to me, she grasps mine firmly and shakes it like a man would, not like she's worried that she'll crush my fingers.

"Carmen, I'm going to Penn State," I reply with smile, "but I'm here _a lot_."

"I know, they have great coffee here, the guys always want to stop on the way back from a job," she chuckles, "but look I have to go, but…it's been good chatting, um…wait a minute," she turns and runs over to her co-worker and grabs something out of his chest pocket and runs back to me. "Do you have a pen? Maybe we can hook up when I'm off. Shift works a bitch, but at least when I'm off, I'm off." She offers me his card as I hold out my pen to her. I watch her quickly jot a couple numbers and an email on the back of his card and then she holds it out to me again. "It would be good to be around some estrogen for a change," she smiles down at me.

"Sounds like a plan," I nod, taking her card and stowing it carefully in my purse next to my i-pod. I watch her skip back to her co-worker, grabbing a tray of coffee on her way and can't help but smile.

It _would_ be good to be around another woman for a while, and one that didn't talk about law courses and cute profs all the time. Speaking of which, I glance at my watch and then at the screen of my laptop. I might just have time to get this finished and see him before he goes.

* * *

"_Say again_?" Tuomo laughs on the other end of the line, making me grip my cell phone tighter, wishing it was his neck.

"You heard me," I grumble, pulling into the parking space near the arena, wishing I'd stopped to get a shot of caffeine to help me get me through the next couple hours after a restless night.

"_Well then why did you say you need my advice big brother? Seems like you're doing pretty good on your own super stud._"

"Did you miss the part where I said she tossed me out?" I snarl into the phone, throwing the car into park and killing the engine.

"_No, I heard that, I just can't figure out what's wrong with that exactly? I have a book of excuses for getting out of there before the cuddling starts. Who needs that? Get in, get out, leave 'em wanting more._"

"You're a jerk, you know that? Mom actually wants grandchildren one day," I sigh, leaning my head on my steering wheel.

"_That's what you and Mikko are for_," he continues to giggle like a twelve year old school girl, raising my blood pressure near the boiling point.

"I like this girl. I liked her before, I like her even more now. I wanted to stay, I…," I can't believe I'm going to say this to my brother because I'll never hear the end of it, "I like the cuddling part."

"_Oh god, well, that's where you're going wrong_," he sighs dramatically so that I can hear it, making me roll my eyes and wonder why I dialed his number and not Mikko's, "_her pussy radar went off as soon as you started doing that. See, here's why you need your little brother for advice man. Girls don't want the wussy boy who cuddles. You were doing just fine as long as you were pumping her up against the wall, she liked it when you were in charge, but as soon as you puss out and start cuddling, she doesn't want you anymore. You've got to tell her who's boss. Tell her to get down on her knees and suck your_…."

"Tuomo," I grumble, shaking my head, "you don't listen so good do you? I said she didn't like it when I told her she couldn't see anyone else."

"_Oh man, why do you have to be so fucking insecure Jaks? You just fucked her brains out, if you're half as good as me, you shouldn't have to tell her that, it's fucking implied. If she wants more of that she's going to have to do some major sucking and_…."

"I thought I was just being honest," I mumble, raising my eyes to some of the guys starting to board the bus. "Look I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, or better yet, if you talk to Mikko, tell him I'll be calling."

"_Suit yourself big brother, but I'm telling you, you gotta take charge, that's what the ladies like_."

"Whatever," I mumble, snapping my phone shut and grabbing my suit bag out of the back seat, heading towards the bus, dragging my tired body across the parking lot. I'll be glad to get on the bus and get my head down. I could use some sleep and some miles between me and Carmen to clear my head.

Women, I don't know why I can't stay away from them. I should become a monk. Every time I get near anything that even smells like a relationship, shazam! Lightening strikes and I get fucked over. Maybe Tuomo's right, except I'd hate to think that misogynist little bastard was right about anything. He might be a better player than I am, but I'll be damned if I let him be right about this too.

Considering that's where my heads at, it's not a surprise that I hear her laughter, and I'm about to dismiss it as the power of my imagination fucking with me, except then I hear it again, mixed with _his_ laughter, and my blood pressure boils over.

I push my way through my team mates, toppling them over like dominos, until I find the two of them at the centre, ogling one another like a couple of horny school kids.

* * *

"I can't believe you remembered what time the bus leaves, I only mentioned it in passing," he grins at me, making me blush to the tips of my ears as I walk through the rest of the boys, who part like the red sea, looking at me like I'm some kind of mass hallucination, like they can't believe I'm real.

"Getting a law degree, remember? I'm kind of smart like that, I can memorize all kinds of things, you'd be surprised," I smile back, taking the hand he offers and letting him pull me into his chest, his plump pink lips so close I can almost taste them.

"I've always wanted to see this," Fleur grins, stepping back and holding his arms out like some kind of demented circus conductor. "All it 'twould take would be for us to move and all of the little puck bunnies hearts would be broken, c'est fini," he grins mischievously, arching his eyebrows at us, like he's waiting to be dared to do just that, and after some of the drinking games I witnessed at the bar, I find myself holding my breath, waiting for them to do it.

"I didn't want to make you _all_ late," I grin over my shoulder at Jordy and Talbie who are clearly finding this very amusing.

"You shouldn't have dared her Jordy," Sidney says quietly, still looking like he's not sure if he's glad to see me or not, "but I'm glad you did," he adds, giving my hand a firm squeeze.

"Well I can take a dare," I turn my grin at him, whetting my lips nervously with my tongue, "what I can't take is being told what to do."

As if on cue I hear the bear like growl behind me and I get the distinct sensation I'm about to be torn limb from limb as I'm dragged off of my feet and deposited on the other side of the wide back of one very angry Fin.

"You can all get on the bus now, nothing to see here," he growls, holding his arms just far enough out form his sides to let me know he expects me to stay behind him. As if.

I move to walk around him, the clicking of my own heels on the pavement seeming very loud in my ears, but his hand darts out pre-naturally fast and grabs a hold of my wrist, and before I know it, he has me bent backwards over his knee, his arms around me, his lips just brushing mine.

"Maybe I can't stop you from seeing him," he hisses, his warm breath brushing over my cheeks, sending a shiver down my spine, "but I can sure as hell let him know that I don't intend to play nice," he concludes, pressing his lips over mine in a bruising kiss that curls my toes and leaves me feeling faint and short of breath so that I'm glad when he puts me back on my feet and holds me there until my eyes flutter open to meet his emerald green ones. "I'm serious Carmen. I'm very competitive, and I don't mean in a good way."

"I get it," I sigh, feeling absolutely tattooed, like his name has actually been branded on my lips, and I'm not sure that I mind. I watch him pick up his suit bag, watch him walk over to the bus, and I just stand there, staring, unable to move, not knowing exactly what to say.

"That was cute," Sidney says quietly, almost menacingly, his breath warm on the back of my neck. I close my eyes, willing the shudder I feel not to show as his arm wraps possessively around my waist. "Was that all for me? Am I supposed to feel jealous?"

"No…I didn't plan that," I lie. Yes, I'd planned to kiss Sidney in front of him, to make _Jarkko _jealous, _not _Sidney. I just hadn't thought it out very well.

"Because if that's what you wanted, I was already jealous," he breathes, his lips touching my cheek as he wraps his arm around my waist and as if he know that my lips are still tingling from Jarkko's bruising kiss, he lowers his lips to my neck, nipping at the thin skin and then sucking it hard, making me suck in my next breath through my teeth and leaving me standing there on legs turned into jello as he walks straight onto the bus without looking back, leaving me standing there as the bus doors close, and the diesel engine starts up and leaves me in its dust.

* * *

"What in the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" he hisses, blocking the aisle, one hand on either side, his chest effectively serving as an insurmountable wall.

"I didn't see your mark on her," I smile up at him, watching as his face goes from red to purple, every vein in his head standing out as he grips the tops of the seats even harder to stop himself from hitting me, which he well knows would result in his getting very comfy back in the press box. "But I do see mine now," I add, glancing over my shoulder to see her still standing in the parking lot of the arena, getting smaller by the second as the bus pulls away, and for just a moment, I feel badly that I've left her behind to the mercy of the puck bunnies.

"I could snap you like a fucking twig," he growls, the veins in his head beginning to throb, beads of sweat popping out on his forehead as he holds himself in check, barely.

"You could, but it would be the last thing you'd do," I grin back at him, glancing over at Bugsy and Fleur who are already on their feet and ready to pounce to my defense, if it comes to that, except it won't because Gonch and Laraque are inches behind Ruuts, ready to pull him back if he should actually try to go for my throat.

"Why are you doing this? You can have any girl you want. Why her?" he snarls, leaning dangerously close to me, so closet that I can smell the coffee on his breath and feel its' warmth on my face.

"She's pretty, don't you think?" I broaden my smile, watching the capillaries in his eyes begin to burst as his blood pressure ramps up.

"I'll fucking kill you, you spoiled little shit!"

I watch, like I'm watching a replay in super slow motion, as he loosens his grip on the seats and reaches for me, like he could pop my head open like a zit. Fortunately Georges and Gonch get a hold of him before he gets a hold of me, and likewise Bugsy and Fleur drag me backwards, to the back of the bus while the old guys get him calmed down, pinning him into his seat. Maybe Georges will get him to do some deep breathing and yoga exercises. I open my mouth to laugh, or to stoke the fire, but Bugsy pushes me down into one of the seats and shakes his head at me, his face darkening as he stands over me.

"Why do you have to push things? He's right you know? Why _do_ you need to go after his girl? And don't tell me _just because_." I look into Ryan's eyes and I know he's not kidding around as his usual toothy smile is replaced by a thin angry line.

"Well…she's the kind of girl you take home to mom isn't she? It's that, or I date Hannah damn Montana or something," I grumble, sliding lower into my seat and shrugging my shoulders.

"I thought you were not supposed to be dating anyway?" Fleur asks quietly, looking more like he sympathizes with me than hating on me like Bugsy is.

"It's going to happen, they know that, they just have some rules about what kind of girl it needs to be," I mumble, all the frustration I have about all the rules and restraints I'm under bubbling up as I talk about it.

"What about Jen? I thought you were always with her?" Malone snaps, seemingly unimpressed by my answer.

"Yeah, like _she's_ the 'bring home to mom' type," I sigh, wishing he hadn't brought her up, it makes me uncomfortable to talk about her in the light of day.

"What's wrong with Jen? She's _hot_ man," Bugsy insists, looking alarmed.

"She's…you know…blue collar," I mumble, feeling small under his gaze.

"What the fuck's wrong with that? Shit, when did you start shitting solid fucking gold?" I watch him turn away from, throwing up his hands and exiting stage right, heading for the other camp. Looking over to Fleur, I can see him pursing his lips over his prominent front teeth, and I know exactly what that look means, he disapproves.

"What? It's easy for you, no one cares about you and V, it's different for me."

"Mon copain, c'est moi, etre honnete. Cela etant, pourquoi cet fille? Pourquoi pas une autre?"

"Parce que il est bien plus facile," I sigh, to which he nods, shrugs and puts his head phones, dialing his i-pod up and opening a magazine, letting me know he's done with the questions and still doesn't approve and right now, I'm not sure I blame him.


	9. Chapter 9

C9

"Sorry to call you at work," I wince, waiting for some sort of negative reaction on the other end of the line, but all I hear is a good natured chuckle.

"_Seriously it's totally fine. You have no idea how boring it is waiting around all the time. If I liked video games like the rest of the Neanderthals I work with maybe it wouldn't be so bad but, no it's fine_." I feel the tension in my shoulders ease, minutely, but all the same, I feel a little better about calling.

"So, if I brought down a couple of coffees, is there someplace we could…talk?" I ask, still feeling strange about calling up a total stranger to vent on, but it's that, or I'm going to have to call up some late night talk show and blubber about my personal life on air and have absolute idiots phone up and tell me that I'm a horrible person and that God is going to smite me down.

"_Yeah, it's a nice night, we have some benches outside. I think some of the guys were talking about washing the truck, and that's always pretty entertaining_."

"Okay, I'll be there in a few, and Jen, thanks."

"_No problem, I'm looking forward to it_."

I click my phone shut and put my hands back on the wheel of my car and blink away the tears that keep threatening to fall. I don't know how this all got so messed up. A couple of months ago, this had been nothing but a pipe dream, a fantasy to just meet Jarkko again, to see if that spark between us had been real. Never in my wildest nightmares did I think it could all go so wrong. Of course I never dreamed that Sidney Crosby would be thrown into the mix.

I'm glad that the station house is only a couple of blocks from the arena, I don't have too much time to think about how badly I've messed all of this up before I'm pulling into the parking lot behind the firehouse, and Jen is bounding out of the back door like a friendly puppy, pulling the passenger door open and helping me unload the coffees. I watch her close her eyes and savor the taste of her mocha and can't help but think that my life used to be that simple, once upon a time.

"So what's up? You sounded stressed on the phone," she smiles, leading the way to a picnic table at the side of the building where she can keep an eye on the traffic and on her co-workers working on the big red engine.

"I feel funny all of a sudden, just coming over her to dump on you like this, I mean we don't even know each other," I sigh, glancing up at her from under my bangs, thinking that she's going to think I'm a total bitch. But then I start thinking how am I going to even tell her? I can't just come out and say that I might be dating Sidney Crosby and Jarkko Ruutu from the Pittsburgh Penguins. I mean, they might not be as famous as some of the Steelers football players, but I imagine she'll know who at least Sidney is and I know that I have to respect his privacy, he has a lot more riding on this than I do.

"Please," she grins, leaning over to pat my hand, "like I said, it's not like I can talk to these Neanderthals about my sex life." She glances over at a couple of good looking well built young men flexing their muscles as they begin suddzing up the truck. "Not that they don't make me listen endlessly to their bullshit stories, but you know what I mean."

"I can imagine," I sigh, feeling a little better, but only a little.

"Sorry, I just assumed it had something to do with, you know, your private life or whatever. Is it school? I wish I was still going to school," she sighs and stares into the distance for a long moment, like she's envisioning it.

"Why didn't you?" I ask, out of curiosity and because I'm still trying to work up the courage to unburden myself about Sid and Jarkko.

"Once I figured out that to do anything with the degree I had I was going to have to get a masters, I decided I valued my freedom more," she sighs, rolling her eyes, "if you can call living with a bunch of smelly guys four days a week for crap pay freedom." She takes a long sip of her coffee and eyes me over the lid, obviously waiting for me to begin. The problem is I don't know where to start.

"It's just…you know, man problems," I mumble, this weird tightening in my chest making me think twice about all of this.

"Yeah I figured, from earlier, you seemed like there was something on your mind," she smiles at me encouragingly. "So what is it? Is he married?"

"No," I chuckle, glad that she's trying to make this easier on me. "No, god, that _would_ be bad but uh… it's just…I came all the way here to see if the chemistry I felt with…uh…," I can't call him Jarkko, if she knows anything about the Pens, she'll know right away, "Jack was real."

"Here? Yeah, I thought I heard an accent, I mean not much but…."

"I'm from Vancouver, Canada," I add, before she can ask if I'm from Washington, and even admitting that much makes my heart skip a beat, sure she's going to guess from even that much information.

"So you came all the way here for a guy? Romantic," she grins, settling in like she's ready for a long juicy story.

"Yeah, well…I really thought he was my dream guy, you know? Like he was perfect for me, so I thought it would be worth it," she chuckles and rolls her eyes like she knows what I'm talking about.

"But now he's not exactly Mr. Dreamboat?"

"Well he _is_, and he isn't," I sigh, not sure how to explain the turmoil in my heart right now. "See…the chemistry is definitely there, I mean…it's _so_ there that we can hardly keep our hands off each other," she grins at me, expecting this to get really juicy but I'm not ready to talk about that, not yet anyway.

"There's a 'but' isn't there?" she asks, scrunching her nose and leaning her chin on the back of her hands.

"It's just not what I had in mind when I thought about us getting together you know? I wanted…I don't know, _more_." I look over at her to see if she understands to see her nodding and smiling.

"You've got the morning after regret thing going," she sighs, nodding, "like you wish you'd held out longer."

"I guess so ,yeah, but I was also imagining more like…kids and houses and…a life together," I shrug, staring into my coffee and wishing it didn't sound so pathetic.

"Oh wow, you had it _all_ planned out didn't you? And now all he wants is sex? Bummer," she reaches over and gives my arm a friendly rub.

"I wish it was that basic," I grumble, picking at the edge of the Styrofoam cup. "See then there's…Patrick." I'm glad I remembered his middle name,

"There's a Patrick too? You're a busy girl," she laughs, her friendly rub turning into a jab that makes me wince, and not just from the momentary sting.

"They're…co-workers and uh…Patrick is like…the um…anti Jack, they're like complete opposites. Patrick is so…sweet and sensitive and thoughtful and just…he's doing all the things I wish Jack was doing."

"Oh god, do I know what you mean. You keep thinking isn't there a happy fucking medium!" she laughs, slapping her hand on the table. "And let me guess, you still like Jack better right?" I nod, feeling my lips turning up into a smile, glad that she gets it. "And they call _us_ complicated."

"I just don't know what to do. I mean, I don't want to be Yoko Ono, you know?"

"You? How is this about you?" She looks over at me, her eyes wide, disbelieving.

"Well I can't date both of them, they work together," I try to explain, but she just rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

"Look, either they'll punch each other out and decide all of this amongst themselves, or you keep going until you figure out what you want. They're big boys, please, you should hear some of the shit I hear with these guys," she chuckles, inclining her head in the direction of the guys washing the Engine. "Believe me, you have a _way_ better chance of, what's his name, Jack, getting the idea that he needs to pick up his game if you keep seeing Patrick." I nod, knowing that what she says makes sense, and I've even thought the same thing myself, it's just that it's more complicated than that, but I don't know how to explain it without giving everything away.

"It's just…their job is sort of…complicated and it's sort of…um year end and they need to be on the same page about things," I try vainly to explain without saying anything but she just laughs.

"What are they, _accountants_?" she laughs, sliding her legs out in front of her and leaning back along the bench. "Believe me, for some strange reason, guys can forgive each other some pretty heinous shit that us girls would never get over in a million years. I bet you're stressing over this and they're not even thinking about it," she smiles, closing her eyes for a moment. "I wish men thought about _any_ of this stuff as much as we do."

"Sounds like you're in the same boat as me," I wonder aloud, feeling hopeful that I'm not the only one dwelling in my own personal hell right now.

"Oh _my_ relationship," she chuckles and looks conspiratorially over at me, "not that I'm _allowed_ to call it that, and to be fair, I don't think it would meet _any_ of the requirements to actually be _called_ a relationship so…," she snorts and we both laugh.

"So what's the deal? Is it one of those guys?" I ask, glancing over toward where the guys are now heavily involved in a soapsuds fight.

"No, _hell_ no," she laughs, pulling a face and even throwing in some gagging noises for good measure. "No he's this…this is kind of embarrassing but he's pretty much just a booty call," she blushes, covering her face with her hands.

"Hey, it's the twenty first century, as long as you're both okay with it," I offer and she peeks through her fingers and then laughs.

"Oh it's not so much that. You have to understand, most guys just get so…I don't know, turned off by my job, or they're threatened or jealous, I don't know, but put it this way, I don't exactly have a lineup outside my door of a Saturday night and I'm not a complete dog so…anyway, suffice it to say if I meet a guy who isn't totally afraid of me, I take advantage of it," she grins over at me.

"So just a booty call?" I ask, still feeling Jarkko's hands on my skin and wondering to myself if that's what he thinks of me.

"Well, I can only say this, it's always been like that between us since the first," she chuckles, staring off into the distance with a whimsical smile on her face.

"Do you want more?" I ask, wondering if her thoughts might go along the same lines as mine, maybe hoping she might have some kind of answer for me.

"I don't know," she shrugs, letting out a long sigh, her gaze still somewhere off in the distance. "You have to understand, we met at one of those fundraiser things, you know where we're raising money for the burn fund and children's hospital and all that, and I was dressed like this, I mean _just_ like this," she chuckles, running her hand over her plain pony tail and gesturing towards her dress blues. "We've all heard of women who like a man in a uniform but a guy liking a chick in anything other than a nurse's uniform? And I mean he was making eyes at me like crazy and damn, I'm only human, so I left him a trail of crumbs to the parking lot and the next thing you know we're all over each other."

"A trail of crumbs?" I giggle at the image in my head.

"Well, you know what I mean, I let him know it would be okay with me if we went somewhere alone, you know, but what I'm saying is, I know how you feel about this Jack guy, once you go there, it's kind of hard to pull back to just dating or whatever. Not that I'm saying I would with uh…," she blushes to her ears and rolls her eyes, "Sam but uh, I know what you mean."

"So you _don't_ want more from him?"

"It's okay the way it is. I mean, I work like all these crazy long hours and he does too and this sort of works for both of us you know? Besides, I'm the one that told him that I didn't want to be involved and all that jazz. I mean, I was pretty much trying to be ultra cool at the time, so it's kind of my fault if we don't, but it's okay the way it is."

"You don't sound convinced," I offer, draining the last of my coffee and trying not to look too much like I don't quite believe her, after all, she's been supportive of me, the least I can do is give her the same respect.

"I'm not sure that we would have had much in common to start with and I'm a little older than him and…god, would you listen to me? No, it's fine the way it is," she chuckles, and just as I'm about to argue the point, the alarm goes off and she jumps to her feet and begins to jog towards the house. "Gotta go, duty calls. But uh, totally good girl talk, we so have to do this sometime when I'm not at work."

"Yeah," I wave at her as she turns, her pony tail bouncing as she disappears into the hall, to the sound of the Engine starting up and the general din of a bunch of men getting ready, which makes me wonder what Jarkko and Sid are up to right now, or if they've torn each other to bits already.

* * *

"So are we fighting still or can I come in?" I peek around the corner at Ryan to find him lying on his stomach playing video games.

"We're not fighting Sid, I'm just pissed at the way you're behaving lately," he says, matter-of-factly without so much as looking up from his game, where he's currently beating the crap out of Steve Downie via X-box. "And before you give me any of that crap about your personal life having nothing to do with me, can it. You're acting like a spoiled brat, and it's not like you and I wish you'd quit it."

"A brat? Because I think Carmen is hot? Don't you think she's hot?" I ask, sitting beside him on the bed and picking up the other controller.

"She is, but she's also seeing Ruuts and I obviously have better manners than you, I might look but I would definitely steer clear, and so should you."

"Bit late for that," I mutter, which makes Ryan look up at me sharply and put down the controller.

"You could always just leave her alone," he suggests in a tone that is less suggestion than order, backed up by his 'don't even think about messing with me' look.

"Why don't you let me worry about that and I'll let you worry about protecting me out on the ice," I suggest, tossing down the controller and getting up to head out of the room.

"Yeah well what about the next time Ruuts goes to pull your guts out through your mouth, who do you want to protect you then?" Stopping in my tracks, I turn and stare at him, feeling anger burning in my chest as he stares me down.

"Like I said, let me worry about that," I mutter, turning and heading out of the room, hearing his derisive snort behind me as he goes back to his game.

He might be right, maybe Jarkko will end up kicking my ass, but I doubt it. He knows what's good for him and he knows what will happen to him if something happens to me. Sure I've heard the stories about what he's done to players on his old team in practice, but his situation here is tenuous enough without messing with me.

Besides, by the time we get back, if things go according to plan, Carmen won't want to see him anymore, she'll be all mine. Glancing down at my watch, I'm guessing that my plan should be going into action right about now. I'll let her stew a little bit before I call though, let her think about it for a while, then I'll call her, see how she feels about Jarkko then. In the meantime I'll give Jen a call, see if she she's going to be home when we get home.

* * *

"What have you done?" I'm not even in my door when my roommate assaults me, looking frazzled, his arms full of roses.

"What are you doing Pete? If you had a date, you could have just sent me a text, I could have gone to the library or…."

"These aren't for me, or any of my special friends," he drawls, rolling his eyes at me, "I'd give red roses, not white. These, my dearest, are definitely for you, they've been coming all day," he continues, pushing the bundle into my arms and pointing to the others in vases all over the kitchen table and the coffee table and just about every other flat surface in the apartment. "Whoever he is, I hope he stops before we run out of things to put them in, or I'm really going to flip out," he continues, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Who are they from?" I ask breathlessly, turning slowly so I can take them all in. Dozens and dozens of bouquets, all white, with a single red rose sitting in a bud vase in the middle of the kitchen table, with a red velvet bow tied around it, and a red envelope leaning against it.

"As if I'd open the envelope, what do you take me for?"

"A busy body," I smile over at him, just in case he doesn't realize I'm joking.

"Well go on," he prompts, raising his eyebrow at me and continuing the impatient tapping while I put the roses down near the sink, wondering what else we have to put them in. "Oh my god, I'll do that if you just open the infernal thing and put me out of my misery," he whines, pushing me toward the table and the waiting envelope. Carefully peeling the envelope open I feel a lump quickly forming in my throat.

"Damn," I hiss, my heart sinking even while it's beating double time and my head begins to swim, and I have to grip the edge of the table to stop myself from falling.

"What? What?" Pete grabs my elbows and pulls me back against his chest to steady me. "Is it good news or bad?"

"I don't know," I whisper, handing him the envelope over my shoulder. "I can't decide. Oh Pete, this is too hard."

"Honey, has this got anything to do with what I've been reading on the boards? Because girlie girl, I have to tell you, the bunnies have your description down to a tee and they are so not happy with you right now."

"Bunnies?" I ask, letting him guide me to a chair.

"Mmmhmm, they saw you talking to Mr. Crosby and ooh girl, you'd think you'd killed their puppy, oooh girl they are pissed at you."

"Me? How do they…who…?" I look up at him, confused, or maybe it's just the words on the card swimming in front of my eyes.

"Girl, don't you read about your boys? Ever since you told me you were after that big studly Fin, I've been reading all about him on these websites and…."

"Don't tell me you believe anything those silly little bitches say," I sigh, rubbing at my temples. "I never read those boards, it's all lies anyway. I mean c'mon, Sidney Crosby's girlfriend…the name alone should tell you it's not exactly a news organization."

"Well I'm telling you honey, they have your description up there and they are gunning for you babes."

"Gun away bitches," I mutter, "not like I _want_ to be in this position."

"Speaking of which, this is heavy duty," he grins, handing me back the card.

"Tell me about it," I sigh, taking the card and running my finger over the writing.

_Like a red rose in a sea of white, singularly beautiful, exotic and wild, you haunt my dreams. Be mine alone. SC_

"Sounds like someone's smitten," Pete purrs, reaching over to run his fingers along the petals of the flower.

"Yeah, I am," I mutter, leaning my head in my hands. "That's the problem."

* * *

"_You shouldn't have_," she sighs, and I picture here laying back on her bed and putting her law books aside. "_My entire apartment smells like a flower shop_."

"I wanted you to know that I was thinking about you all day," I chuckle, glad that I can hear a smile in her voice. "Do you like them?"

"_They're beautiful Sidney but um…it's too much, honestly_."

"But if it made you think of me, then I got what I wanted. I hope you have some free time when we get back in a couple days. I have some plans for us. There's a new restaurant I'd love to take you to."

"_Sidney…I don't know that it's a good idea that we keep seeing each other_," I can hear the strain in her voice, the conflict, and it makes me smile.

"I knew you'd be worried about me and Jarkko, that's why I phoned, I wanted you to know that we're fine, honestly, may the best man win you know?"

"_Really_?" She doesn't sound convinced.

"Honestly, we didn't tear each other apart, I promise," I grin, thinking about the fire in his eyes and how much I'm sure he _wanted_ to kill me. "So what do you say? Dinner?"

"_I guess, yeah_," she sounds a little more relaxed, happier, I think.

"Can I call you tomorrow too? You don't mind?"

"_Mind_? No," she giggles. "_I'm not sure why you'd want to call. Don't you have enough to do_?"

"Yeah but I like to hear your voice Carm, it's good to hear a friendly voice that's not my mom's you know?" I listen to her giggle and think I'm starting to break down her barriers.

"_Then yes you can call_," she sighs and now I can't help but think she's closing her eyes and thinking of me.

"Good, I'll look forward to it. Good Night Carmen, sweet dreams."

"_Good Night Sidney_."

I put the phone down and roll back over on my bed and grin to myself. I'm definitely winning her over.

"You're so full of shit, you know that?" Bugsy shakes his head at me. "Oooh Carm, I love to hear your voice…fucker."

"What? She has a nice voice."

"Uh huh, and that's why the next thing you're going to do is call Jen right?"

"I might not."

"Yeah, right," he snorts, closing his book and getting up and heading for the bathroom. I wait until the door closes and I can hear the shower running before I roll back over and dial the fire station.

"_Station House_."

"Is Jen in?"

"_Yeah, this Sidney_?"

"Yeah," I sigh, rolling onto my back.

"_Good game tonight_," the guy says, before calling for Jen over his shoulder.

"Thanks," I mutter, waiting for Jen to pick up.

"_Thanks Gordo, can I have some privacy do you think_?" she growls, sending a shiver up my spine. "_Sid, I've told you before, you can call my cell, you wouldn't have to go through them." _

"Yeah but the reception on your land line is better, and when I want to hear your voice before I go to sleep I don't want to hear a bunch of static," I laugh.

"_Mmmm, you're such a flirt_," she chuckles, "_so_ _you ready for your bedtime story_?"

"Yeah," I snuggle down into the bed and slide my hand down my chest and into my boxers. "Go ahead."

"_Well…let's see, once upon a time there was a very naughty boy named Sidney_…"


	10. Chapter 10

C10

"Honey I'm home," I call, dropping my keys on the stand by the door and grabbing the mail, sifting through it for something that looks like it might not be a bill. As I head down the hall of the apartment, wondering why it's so quiet, I see a new vase of flowers on the table, daisies this time, and I can't help but smile. "At least it's a change of pace from all the roses," I mutter, half to myself.

"Yes I thought so too," Peter appears bustling down the hallway, like he's got somewhere to go and I know he doesn't start at the club until eight…

"Where are you off to?"

"You have a visitor," he hisses, grabbing my arm and steering me into the kitchen, "and before you bitch me out for letting him in, he looked positively pathetic sitting out in the hall, so I took pity on him," he explains in a low hushed tone.

"It's okay if you let Sidney in," I begin only to watch Peter roll his blue eyes at me.

"I'll leave you two alone," he sighs, shaking his head and picking up his book bag and beetling out through the living room. Peeking around the corner I see the tall dark shape, the broad shoulders and that skater ass poured into dark blue jeans that makes me suck in a long slow breath. He's surveying our cd towers with interest, which thankfully gives me time to gather my thoughts, or at least banish the red hot visions that flash behind my eyes at the mere sight of him.

"Jarkko," I manage, my voice sounding almost like a sigh as he takes his hands out of the pockets of his jeans and turns to follow the sound of my voice.

"I know they're not roses but…," his voice trails off as we both turn to look at the simple daisies in their simple yet colourful plastic gardening bucket in the middle of our table.

"I like them," I insist, "they're simple, they grow wild and strong, they're not fussy and pampered." It's not until I say it that I realize what a perfect metaphor it is for the choice I have to make, how perfectly it describes the diversity between he and Sidney. We stand there and just stare at one another for a while, all of the words unsaid making the air around us feel thick and heavy. Looking at him now, I want to reach out and run my fingers over his new scars, kiss his painful looking lip better, but I don't, I just stand where I am, unmoving. "So you guys have been playing really well," I begin instead, and immediately feel badly for trying small talk as a pained look makes his full soft lips tighten into a thin hard line.

"I came to talk about what happened when we left," he says softly, his accent and the stitches in his lip making him lisp.

"Oh that," I sigh, wrapping my arms around myself protectively and digging the toe of my boot in the carpet.

"You're seeing him tonight aren't you?" he asks, his voice sounding nearer, and then I feel his hands on my shoulders, and I tense, even though what I want to do most at this moment is let him pull me into his chest, let him wrap his strong arms around me.

"I am," I reply, refusing to look up into his green eyes. "It's called dating. It's generally considered a good way to get to know one another."

"I feel like we _do_ know each other," he says gruffly, his fingers digging into the flesh of my shoulders, almost enough to hurt, but not quite, more like a promise than a threat, and I feel my entire body reacting accordingly, humming like a struck tuning fork. "I think you feel the same about me," he whispers, his lips almost touching my cheek.

"But you forget, I've been…researching you, so if you feel like that, it's not really true," I mumble, trying hard not to shake even though my entire body feels like it's suddenly gone ice cold, like he's fire and I'm ice and if he gets any closer, I'm going to melt.

"Why do you try to talk yourself out of everything?" he asks, sounding hurt, his hands withdrawing, his body heat fading as he stalks across the room, going back to stare at the cd towers and I feel like I can finally breathe with some space in between us.

"I'm good at talking, remember? I'm going to be a lawyer," I remind him, glancing up through my bangs at him, watching him as he curls his big meaty hands into fists.

"This is about us having sex isn't it? Why do you American girls have to get so…strange about it? I'm attracted to you and for some reason you're attracted to me, so why is it so wrong that we want to be together?" he says suddenly, his voice sounding rough and husky, sending goose-bumps racing over my skin.

"I'm Canadian," I mutter, because it's an argument I can use and because I wasn't prepared for him to unmask me like this, "and I told you I wanted to go slowly and you didn't respect that."

"Why are you so afraid of me?" he asks more quietly, his green gaze searching mine.

"I'm not," I insist, wanting very much to stamp my foot like a petulant child.

"You wrap yourself up, you pull away, and you will hardly even look at me. You used to smile every time you saw me. Do you want me to apologize for wanting you?" Shaking my head, I force myself to return his gaze, let him see how hard this is for me.

"I do like you Jarkko, well…more than that," I sigh, blinking rapidly to keep the tears back, "but you don't know me and…I'm not the kind of girl that wants to be just another notch on your belt."

"Is that what you think? Hell, that…_kid_ is more likely to make you a notch on his," he snorts, turning his back on me, like he can't stand to see my reaction to the mere mention of Sidney Crosby.

"He's been an absolute gentleman as far as I'm concerned," I point out quietly, "maybe you could learn a little something from him." I wince when I say the words, not so much meaning to hurt him as to point the differences out to him. I watch him glance at the flowers and then back at me, shaking his head.

"So you won't stop seeing him?" he asks, his wide round shoulders slumping, sounding and looking defeated.

"Not for now, no," I whisper, not sure at all that I really feel that way but I've promised myself that I won't jump to any rash conclusions or make any kind of decision, not yet anyway.

"Is there anything I can say or do?" he asks, his voice suddenly strained, almost like he might actually cry and I know if he does, I will. I don't want to say no, but I don't know what to tell him will change my mind either. I keep wishing he'd just understand, that he'd just do something that would help make all of this easier but all I can do is stand across the room from him and shrug. He nods, slowly, like he's agreeing, and then he crosses the floor in two strides and slides his hands across my cheeks and into my hair, tipping my lips up to his and presses his mouth down over mine, his tongue seeking entry, the solidness of him pressed against me, bending me backward.

Against my better judgment, my body reacts immediately, my skin tingling where his body brushes mine, my nipples hardening against his chest, my heart beating like a caged bird. I feel my body molding to his, my mind going blank as passion and desire overtake all common sense, all but the smallest of voices whispering 'no, not again' while the devil on my other shoulder screams 'yes, yes, take me now'.

I shiver under his touch as his hands slide down my back, shuddering as he gets a good firm grip on my ass and picks me up off my feet, and then the shudders turn to moans, partly from desire but mostly from frustration, frustration that I don't have better control, that I can't gather the will power to say no, even as he pulls my legs around him and presses me up against the wall. Instead of telling him no, I'm kissing him back, pulling him closer, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding on for dear life while he pushes my underwear aside and slides a finger inside, finding me already slick and ready.

"You want me," he hisses, his teeth tugging at my earlobe, sending shockwaves of pain mixed with pleasure through my entire body. "Say it, say you want me."

"Nnnnoooo," I whimper, arching against his hand and wanting more as his thumb strokes my clit, driving me closer to the edge of sanity.

"I want you, I want to be inside of you where it's warm and tight," he groans, the sound of his voice only making me wetter, and the sound of his zipper lowering actually makes me moan out loud.

"Jarkko please," I whimper, not sure now what part of me wants to say no when every other part of me wants him to do exactly as he wishes, to take me, here, now, hard and fast.

"That's right, say please, say you want me Carmen, tell me you do," he hisses, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance, and I can tell by his heavy breathing that it's taking every ounce of control to hold himself in check.

"No Jarkko, let me down, please," I gasp, that small part of me managing to scrape its way back into control, pushing back the passion, and drowning the desire as it does. The disbelief in his face as he looks at me makes the tears spill over, and despite everything else, he reaches for me, pulling me into the safety of his arms and rubbing my back, saying soft and comforting things in Finnish until the tears subside.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, but I can tell it's through clenched teeth.

"Me too," breathing in his warm comforting scent one more time before peeling myself out of his arms. "You'd better go."

"Fine, I will," he promises, sighing heavily as he turns his back on me, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand. "I will, but I don't understand…you want me Carmen, and I want you and I don't understand…," he mutters shaking his head. I can't bear to see him like this, and I know that I'm the one sending out mixed signals, so I cover the distance between us and lean my cheek on his back, wrapping my arms around the expanse of his chest and holding him until his hands cover mine.

"I need you to stop…I need us to stop letting this happen. I _do_ want you Jarkko, but I want more than this, I need to know that you do too." I feel his chest expand as he takes in a deep steadying breath, and then he gives my hands a squeeze before prying them off of me and turning to cup my face in his hands, like it's something that could break if he didn't handle it gently, like it's something precious.

"I might not use flowery words and I might not have millions in the bank to buy you things, but I do care, more than you seem to think. I think about you so often. I lie in bed at night and think about you. I just wish that you weren't thinking about _him_," he sighs, leaning in to brush his lips gently over mine, and then before I have a chance to argue, he turns and walks out of the apartment, leaving me staring at the closed door.

* * *

"You're quiet tonight," Sidney reaches for my hand in the dark of the vehicle, lacing his fingers in mine and giving my hand a gentle squeeze. "Didn't you like the dinner?"

"It was fine," I sigh, glancing down at his hand and then back out at the passing street lights.

"Did I say something? Do something?" he asks, and I can hear the smile in his voice, and I know that he knows he's done nothing but entertain, be sweet and charming all evening. "C'mon Carm, you can tell me, I can take it."

"I just have a lot on my mind right now," I admit, with absolutely no intention of telling him what. I mean how can I tell him that even while he was regaling me with amusing stories from the dressing room I was still suffering from sense memories, my body still pulsating with unfulfilled desire.

"So should I just take you home?" he asks, giving my hand another squeeze to pull my attention back to him. Slowly I turn to him, raising my eyes to meet his at the last moment, seeing the concern clear in his mocha coloured eyes. "You look a little tired."

"I think that might be a good idea," I sigh, "I'm sorry, I'm not very good company tonight." I keep wondering if I'm being unfair to him, if I'm cheating on him in my mind, if I'm really giving him a fair shot at this dating thing.

"You don't need to entertain me," he chuckles as the SUV coasts to a stop at a red light, "I just like having you around, having someone not tease me makes quite a change," he adds, leaning over to buss my cheek, or at least that's the way it begins. My body comes alight at the touch of his lips on my skin, something warm and stirring deep inside of me. Turning my head, I press my lips to his, feeling the current pass from me to him, feeling his hand tighten around mine, and then, as I draw back at the sound of a car horn blaring behind us, I see confusion swim in his eyes.

"Take me home," I whisper, letting him see the promise in my eyes.

"If you're sure," he whispers, raising my hand to his lips, to which I can only nod, mutely, because I'm not sure, at all.

* * *

I stand a pace behind her as she puts her key in the lock, wondering what's changed, and not wanting to question it too much. Truth be told, I'd started to wonder sometime during dinner if I'd lost her to Ruuts, if she was about to break it to me gently that she'd rather have the Fighting Finn than me. Instead, she turns to me as we walk through the door and looks into my eyes, and I can see, somewhere in there, she's fighting her own reaction.

If I was the kind of gentleman I've been trying to make her believe I am, I'd kiss her goodnight and leave, here and now.

Except that I'm not.

So instead, I kiss her, gently, softly, waiting for her to come to me, to feel her arms wrapping around my waist, to hear her moan softly into my mouth as I lead her slowly backwards, until we find our way to the couch, where I guide her downward, until she's lying in my arms, looking at me with a simmering passion in her gaze. Brushing my fingertips down her cheek, I feel her body respond, molding itself to mine, but still, the desire I see in her eyes is only on a low burn.

I need to take my time. Like a frightened animal she needs to be coaxed, needs to be reassured. Unlike most of the girls I've been with, her offer comes with ties, with considerations and consequences, mostly for her. So I kiss her carefully, slowly, soft kisses meant to stoke the fire, like warm coals, and I wait, like a chess game, knocking the time clock and then waiting for her next move.

It seems like hours, maybe because I'm impatient, or maybe because with Jen it's just been so much easier, so much more straightforward, but finally I hear that little whimper as I explore her mouth with my tongue, as my fingertips gently brush over her nipples, stroking them into hard little points. That little whimper is like a green light, or more like those traffic signs that turn from stop to slow. So I proceed with caution, slipping my hand up under her blouse and into her bra while I kiss my way down her neck, nipping and teasing until I get that next signal, the next whimper, or that little shudder that lets me know I can proceed to the next level.

It's agony, all this waiting, this measured yearning, keeping my needs, my desire in check, so I remind myself of my goal, almost in sight. The perfect girlfriend, the one that Mario will approve of, that my parents will approve of, that no one can find fault with, tear down, and hurt with misplaced words or sideways looks. How can anyone find fault with a leggy, beautiful, and intelligent girl, and Canadian to boot? Don Cherry would be proud. Who could find fault with that? No one but me.

Even as the last stitch of clothing is removed after a long careful tango of first me then her, I don't feel the same urge or the same craving I feel for Jen. Yes Carmen is beautiful, her porcelain skin soft and smooth, blemish free, her lips red and soft, her hair long and silky, her breasts high and perfectly round, her legs going on forever as they wrap around my waist as I slide into her. I understand well why Jarkko is willing to give up re-signing with the Pens, even possibly sitting out the playoffs for her. She's a goddess, and I tell myself that I'm lucky to have her body moving beneath mine, to have her wrapped around me, to have her lips softly open beneath mine.

I tell myself all of that and more, and still I don't feel a thing as her body shudders and quakes beneath mine. I don't take the same pleasure in watching her writhe beneath me, her body flushed with heat of the orgasm. Even as my body expends itself, like a well oiled machine, doing just as it's expected to do, I feel nothing. Empty. Cold.

She's perfect. I'm the one that's not.

* * *

Lying next to him, his body curled against mine, his cheek resting in the crook of my neck, his arm thrown across my waist, I reach for the feelings I felt with Jarkko's body wrapped around mine, but they don't come. Those feelings of safety, of warmth and completion flit around in the dark, like lightening bugs, a fleeting thing; blink and then they're gone.

Feeling him moving inside me, I couldn't help but think of Jarkko, of the heat and urgency of his desire, of the flame that licks at my insides, threatening to consume me. It's missing here, and its' absence leaves me confused and shivering in the dark of my living room. If it weren't for the heat of his body, I'd be freezing to death, and it's not the temperature in the room, it's something between us, or lack there of. It's like the spark isn't there. I wanted to have the same lightening show go off, the same fireworks exploding in my head, but all I got was the occasional pop like microwave popcorn when the bag's almost full.

I do feel satisfied. My body feels limp and slightly Jello-like in his arms, so it's not any lack of skill or effort on his part. He's desire carved in flesh, excellence in every limb and line, perfection from every angle. It's not for lack of technique, or even desire. I don't know what's missing. I only know that, even as I lie in his arms, his soft even breaths blowing over my skin, that it's not there, and that I wish, very much, that it was Jarkko in my arms right now, and that scares me very much indeed.


	11. Chapter 11

C11

"Sorry, we were at a three alarm when you called," Jen grins as she slips onto the bench across from me and wraps her fingers around the warm cardboard cup, closing her eyes and letting out a contented sigh.

"Sounds dangerous," I offer, to which she only shrugs as I offer to wipe off a streak of black from her cheek and she gratefully accepts one of the napkins and swipes it across her cheek before wadding the napkin up and reaching back to let her hair down from its confines in a tight bun at the nape of her neck.

"All fires are dangerous, but yeah, a lot of the ones in the city are worse, you just don't know what to expect. That's why my dad's working out of one of the stations in the 'burbs. Homes are just more predictable."

"But not as…challenging?" I ask which makes her laugh and nod.

"I'm sure my mom would much rather having me getting little old ladies' kitties down from trees, but I told myself if I was going to do this, I was going to do it all the way," she sighs, and shrugs again.

"I guess with this station being around this area, you get lots of industrial fires and warehouse fires?" I ask and she nods earnestly.

"Yeah, like today, big warehouse, lots of floors, _lots_ of wondering what the hell is going to be around the corner. It can be a little hairy but," she shrugs, "fun."

"Fun?" I shiver and shake my head. "I guess there's adrenalin and all that."

"Yep, it's a rush" she nods and leans forward, resting her chin on the back of her hands. "As long as no one gets hurt, and so far," she knocks her knuckles on the side of her head, "so good," she adds with a laugh. "I asked today about joining the investigative team," she begins, her smile fading, the light in her dark eyes burning lower. "They said they'd look seriously at my application," she adds, pulling it out of the back pocket of her uniform. "I think my dad being a chief might have something to do with that," she adds with a half smile.

"Let me guess, he doesn't want you in harms way anymore than your mom does but he's not going to come out and say it out loud?"

"Something like that," she yawns, stretching her arms over her head and making a happy little mewing noise. "But enough about boring old me, let's get back to you. So Patrick huh?" I nod, and shrug at the same time. "What? It wasn't everything you dreamed about and more?"

"No," I shake my head and take a long sip of the peppermint tea I keep hoping is going to make my head feel better.

"So was he pathetically unimaginative or just bad or what?" she chuckles, raising her eyebrows at me.

"No, he was…I don't know, fine I guess. No, to be fair he was sweet and patient and all that but just…not…," I don't want to say it out loud. It's there, on the tip of my tongue but I just don't want to actually say it.

"Not…what was his name? Jack?" I nod even as I cringe.

"I don't know why this is so hard to admit to myself but even since I saw him out to his car in the middle of the night, I've been beating myself up about this. I keep thinking that I should like him more but…I just can't stop thinking about…."

"Jack?" she laughs and shakes her head at me. "You're having a hard time admitting you like him more aren't you?"

"Yeah," I sigh, "I think it has something to do with my mother coming into town."

"Oh, would mommy disapprove?"

"Of Jack?" I look over at her and I realize that this probably does have something to do with why I'm having such a hard time accepting that I like Jarkko better. "Yeah, she would. She'd _much_ rather think I'm dating a younger guy with _lots_ of money and good prospects than an older guy with _some_ money and questionable prospects."

"That sounds ominous," she laughs, "but I know what you mean, but I guess from the other perspective. I've been given the distinct impression that I would _not_ measure up, not that he's _ever_ even so much as _hinted_ at having me meet his folks," she chuckles, but this time it sounds strained, like she doesn't really mean it. "Besides, I'm pretty sure he's seeing someone else," she sighs, her eyes glazing over for a moment. "So," she smiles brightly, obviously dismissing the former more gloomy thought, "not looking forward to mommy's visit?"

"No," I grumble. "We don't really get along," I add, thinking about my ulcer and the class I have this afternoon and if it might be better to go home and catch a nap before she blows into town like a hurricane and gives me a migraine on top of everything else. "I'm beginning to think it might just be a lot easier to pay my roommate to act straight for a few days."

"So you can't just tell her you're dating two guys?"

"Hell no!" I giggle. "Not unless I want to be called a tramp and permanently written out of the will." We both laugh, and it seems to ease the tension, but only for a moment, and then the alarm goes off again. She looks up, cocking her head to one side as one of her colleague's sprints past her.

"Same fucking fire bug, another warehouse," he shouts, and she shakes her head.

"Holy shit, it's a busy week!" she laughs, jumping up and reaching back to pull her hair back up into its' tight confines. "Sorry, duty calls! Off I go to save the world. I'll call you later." I nod, watching her bounce away before I gather her cup and mine and head for my car, barely getting in the door before the engine's sirens wail and the big crimson machine rolls out onto the road with Jen hanging onto a grab rail, still tugging on her jacket, her bright yellow helmet in the hand she waves at me.

I wave back, wishing we'd had more time to chat, but glad that I've at least unburdened myself a little, that everything's not weighing quite so heavily on me now. Not that I've been able to make a decision.

Except I can't stop thinking about those green eyes…but I have to stop, because my mother's coming to pick through my life and make me feel like I'm three, and even if I decide that I'm going to try and make things work with Jarkko, I'm not about to let my mother rip into him too, not just before the first game of the playoffs.

So instead of calling him to let him know I've made up my mind, which I'm not sure that I have, or even sending him a text or letting Sidney down by voice mail or making plans to see him after the game, I stick my phone in my pocket and head to class. At least if I'm in class when her plane arrives, I have an excuse for not picking her up.

* * *

"Coucou, ou etais-tu hier soir? Mario was looking for you. I had to tell him you'd fallen asleep watching a movie," Fleur smiles as I slide onto the bench near him.

"I had a date with Carmen," I answer quietly, keeping my voice low and glancing around to see if that maniacal Fin is about to appear out of nowhere to pound me in the skull with his helmet.

"A date, ou une passer la nuit?" he asks with that little grin of his that means trouble for me if I don't shut him up right now.

"Yeah, that, but… it's nothing to get excited about if you know what I mean," I mumble, toeing off my shoes and sliding my t-shirt over my head.

"Vraiment? Chiant?"

"No…I don't know, just…yeah I guess you could say it was boring," I shrug, still trying to make my mind up about it all. I've been half the night tossing and turning and trying to decide how to make this work, because it has to work. My dad will be arriving tomorrow just in time for our first playoff game and I have all these plans for her to meet him, and then to meet Mario...

"So…c'est fini?"

"No, not fini," I grumble, my hands on my belt. "It's not always good the first time, maybe I was nervous." I know it's a lie, but it's one I have to tell myself, for now.

"Je veux dire avec Jen," he glances over at me as he pulls on his shoulder pads.

"Oh that," I sigh, grabbing a pair of socks and pulling them on while I think. "I think it pretty much has to be, yeah. I can't make this work with Carmen if I keep seeing _her_."

"Must it work mon ami? I know you don't think she fits l'image," he gives the word the old bunny ears and raises his eyebrows at me, "but elle est tres jolie, non?"

"She's pretty, yes, but she's a…she's just too normal, they'd eat her alive, you know they would," I insist, hissing out the words that I've said to myself over and over until it's like a mantra, until I believe it's true. I'm protecting her, it's for the best.

"They, mon copain? Ou tu?"

"They, _they_, the media, Mario, my dad. _They_. Believe me Fleur, I know. It's my life and I know what they expect from me. A model, a film star, someone not…ordinary, not blue collar, not lower working class, not her, okay?"

"Pas Veronique, comme ca?"

"I'm not talking…oh to hell with you, you don't understand. You're in love with your childhood sweetheart, how could you possibly understand what I'm going through?" I groan, throwing up my hands and reaching for a stick to tape up, something, anything but talking about this right now. The playoffs are here, that should be more than enough for anyone to concentrate on. I can't be dealing with this and women at the same time, especially not if I have to justify myself every damn time I turn around and…

"Croz." Bugsy steps up, the toes of his shoes almost touching my stocking feet, and as I look up at him, expecting to have him jump down my throat, instead of the judgment I expect to see in his eyes, all I see is worry. "You should come to the weight room," he says quietly, holding his hand out to help me up.

"Why? So you can make me lift another greased bar bell and almost break my toe again?" I chuckle, half hoping what I see in his eyes is just a poker face, hiding something amusing, something that will lighten my mood right now. Now is when I miss Army. Colby would know what to do, what to say to make me laugh even when I don't want to.

"You should come see the news," he suggests, waiting for me to get up and follow him but I just shrug, as if I want to see myself being interviewed for the umpteenth time. "Sid…," he takes a deep steadying breath and then continues, putting his hand on my shoulder, like he has to hold me down. "There's been…a firefighter's been killed at a warehouse fire. A floor collapsed and apparently there's some others that are injured and some other members of the ladder crew missing…," his voice trails off as I search his eyes to see if he's yanking my chain, but it's obvious he's not.

"Mercy Station?" I ask, my voice hoarse as I force it past the lump in my throat. He doesn't have to answer. The dark look in his eyes tells me it's true.


	12. Chapter 12

C12

Everyone turned when as the door opened. When there's one instructor making notes on an overhead, it's damn quiet in a lecture hall full of over tired legal students, and the doors in this old building need a good squirt of wd-40 or whatever will make them squeak less. If you could have heard a pin drop before, the sight of two armed police officers standing in the doorway made the room even more tomb-like. In my own little world, I might have been the last to hear my name called, but a jab in the ribs and every set of eyes turning in my direction had me at full panic stations, my heart hammering against my ribs, my mind turning a mile a minute as I tried to figure out if I'd paid my last parking ticket, or if, in my general haze of the last few days, I'd maybe picked something up and not paid for it or…

"Carmen Yang?" the officer calls, his voice booming through the auditorium, bouncing off the walls and making my heart freeze in my chest. Me? Realizing I haven't said it out loud I just stare at them, waiting for them to bring out the hand cuffs or pull a gun or something. I really have to stop watching so many re-runs of CSI. Surely this is a little overboard for paying tuition fees late or not returning a library book on time?

"It might be better if we stepped outside," the female officer gives me that half smile, the pity smile, and my stomach turns into a ball of lead. I watch her as she bends to pick up my back pack, that same frozen little smile on her face and my mind goes into overdrive. My first thought is Peter, but as I manage to stand, I glance up the stairs to see him peeking in the doorway, face ashen.

So if not Peter…who? I flip through my mental rolodex as I follow the officers up the stairs, but I just can't think who…

"Oh honey, I am soooo sorry," Pete croons as he takes my hand and leads me down the hall to a bench and gently presses me down onto it. I find myself staring at him in disbelief or maybe it's just that I can't quite make out what's going on here as I turn my attention back to the officers, searching their faces for some clue.

"I need to ask you if you recognize this," the female officer asks, opening her fingers slowly, like a clamshell, and revealing a gold pendant, the kanji for mother, the gold chain draped between her fingers, and I feel my entire body go cold.

"Where…where did you get that?" I ask, wanting to reach out for it, but at the same time, feeling oddly frozen in place.

"There was an accident," the male officer begins, and that's when Pete starts rubbing the small of my back, which I know is meant to be consoling or something, but right at this moment in time, it's just irritating and makes me cringe.

"What kind of accident? She was flying? I mean, what? Did she get sucked out of the plane's bathroom or something?" I snap, trying to make sense out of what I'm hearing while that chain swings mesmerizingly in front of me.

"Um…no a motor vehicle accident," the female officer says quietly, taking up her post on the other side of me, patting me on the knee, which makes me flinch and pull away.

"I don't understand. She never even called for me to pick her up," I hiss, pulling out my phone and snapping it open, scrolling through my messages as if to prove my point.

"She was in a rental car," Pete explains quickly, and I feel grateful that at last someone's getting to the point. "There's a fire, a bunch of warehouses on fire, and someone stopped in front of her to gawk and she tried to swerve out of the way and there was a bus and…," his voice trails off, as if just explaining it is too much, as if he's worried explaining it will make me go off like some kind of banshee.

"So what are you saying?" I look at him, seeing this weird sort of pained look on his face and then I look at both of the cops, from one to the other, and they're just staring back at me, saying nothing. "So what are you saying? Is she dead or what?" I see the surprise and disbelief pass across the female cop's face, but she's good, she's professional, she hides it quickly behind her mask of concern, and reaches out to pat my hand, probably assuring herself that I'm in shock and people can react in all kinds of ways when they're upset.

"We're sorry for your loss," she says quietly but firmly, patting my hand in time with her words, like she's trying to force their meaning into my skin.

"So she's dead, that _is_ what you're saying," I reiterate, looking from her to the other cop and then back again. "I mean, that's what happened right?" I watch the two officers exchange a worried glance, not sure what to do with a girl that doesn't weep, that doesn't want hugs or reassurances, apart from wanting to be sure... "She's dead, just say it."

"She died," Pete whispers and when I turn to him, I see the same wide eyed look of surprise on his face, and I'm almost disappointed. I expected him to know me better. But then, I guess there's a certain expected reaction to this kind of news. Too bad I'm not one to conform to that kind of thing. I don't feel like crying. A minute ago I was mad, mostly at them drawing this whole thing out, but now, I just feel numb. Empty.

"Okay then," I nod, gathering my book bag and grabbing my back pack from the female officer's grip. "That's that."

"We'd like you to come down to Mercy hospital, to make an official identification," the male officer says, clearing his throat, a sound that echoes through the empty halls. "When you're ready of course," he adds, still looking at me like I've grown another head, like I'm some kind of strange animal he's never seen before.

"But I don't have to do it right now? I mean…I don't have to go with you right now?" I ask, glancing from one to the other as I push up to my feet. They both shake their heads at me, and I'm sure that I can see relief in their faces, as if they couldn't imagine if I'm like this now, what I would be like actually standing over her body.

Me neither.

"Do you want us to take you home?" the female officer asks suddenly, as if she's just remembered that she has a job to do.

"No," I shake my head, letting them off the hook. "I'm good, but thanks," I grumble, dismissing them as I turn and head down the hall, thinking to myself that this will be something they'll chat about at the water cooler at the precinct tonight.

"Carmen, slow down. Damn, your legs are longer than mine," Pete huffs as he chases me down. "You shouldn't be alone right now. I'll go with you," he insists. I stop in my tracks, turning to look at him. He's right; I probably shouldn't be alone right now. I mean, I might feel nothing now, but in an hour…who knows.

"You're right Pete," I smile, a false, almost predatory grimace that makes him visibly cringe. "I won't be alone," I promise, giving his cheek a pat.

"Where are you going?" he asks, searching my face with something reaching panic on his.

"Don't worry about me," I grin, making his eyes go impossibly wide. "I'll be fine, promise. I know exactly what I need right now," I add, knowing that what I need to wipe out this aching emptiness eating at my soul right this minute is the last thing I actually want. Pete opens his mouth to say something else, but closes his lips and shakes his head instead. "That a boy. I'll call later," I add, turning on my heel and heading out the door and away from these quiet empty halls that would only let me think too much.

* * *

"This is…unexpected." When I opened the door I'd expected…well I don't know what or who I expected, but not Carmen. Part of me wants to slam the door in her face, even if it's just to let her know how she's made me feel, but something in her eyes, or rather, something missing from her expression makes me step aside and let her in.

Without a word, she steps past me, dropping her book bag and back pack behind her. I watch, shocked silent as she begins to unzip her boots, her delicious derriere pointed straight at me, making my hands twitch with the desire to grab it, to run my fingers over it, to shove her face first against the wall and press myself against it. But I resist all of those feelings and just close the door, and lean there, waiting for her next move.

After the boots comes the jacket which lands in a heap on the floor, and then she wraps her fingers around the hem of her sweater and begins to pull it up over her head. It gets to just below her breasts before I manage to shake myself back to reality and reach out to stop her, putting my hands over hers' to still them.

"What are you doing?" I ask, fighting the urge to kiss her soft sweet mouth as she emerges from the top of her sweater in full pout.

"Getting undressed," she says matter-of-factly, her dark eyes dead, devoid of any sign of life, of any of that mischievous glitter or even angry fire that I'm used to seeing in those dark orbs.

"I can see that," I grumble, trying to pry her hands off of her sweater but she only pulls against me and snarls at me, and for just a minute, I think she might actually snap at me with her teeth but she just grinds them instead and look annoyed. "Why are you undressing? You didn't want me before and now you do? Do you think you can toss a quarter in me and I'll do whatever you want?" I ask, backing away from her, because this close proximity to the heat of her skin is making me sweat.

"You know what Jarkko, I don't really want to think right now, never mind fucking argue, okay? So if you can just…shut up and fuck me, that would be good," she sighs, some of the anger leaking out of her eyes as she does, replaced by something that looks more like sheer fatigue.

"You're a piece of work Carmen, you know that? You're not very clear with what you want. One minute you want a relationship and you're pushing me away and the next…," the words die in my throat as her hand slips down and grabs a hold of my package, giving it a hard enough squeeze so that her promise and threat are quite clear.

"Enough talking," she hisses, irritation making her voice deep and sultry. "I could have gone…somewhere else, but I didn't. This was my first choice, okay? So if you care at all about me, you'll stop talking now and fuck me, is that clear enough for you?"

Her dark eyes search mine, full of hurt and frustration and anger, and then she blinks and hides it all away, replacing it with a come hither look that I know is only a mask, but I give in all the same as she slowly strokes me to life, her body twining around mine as she pulls me towards her, wrapping her arms around my neck and bringing my lips to hers' for a long, slow bittersweet kiss.

Bittersweet because my body reacts as it always has with her, with longing and desire bubbling immediately to the surface, but my mind is back peddling as fast as it can. I want to believe it's not me she wants, but it's hard to think at all when she's unzipping my jeans and sliding her hand inside, curling her fingers around me and leading me towards the bedroom. I wish I didn't want her so badly, that every thought that's not about hockey is about the sounds she makes when I'm inside of her, of how soft her skin is, of how pink her nipples are…

"No, no, you can't just use me like this," I groan, pushing her back from me as she shoves the bedroom door open and holding onto the door jam for dear life. "I have _feelings_ too you know."

"Feel these then," she purrs, pulling her sweater over her head and unsnapping her bra, tossing both to the floor. My breath catches in my throat as she runs her hands beneath her perfectly round breasts, holding them, tweaking her nipples between her fingers as she looks up at me from the edge of the bed. "Don't make me beg Jarkko," she whispers, tears beginning to well in her eyes as I continue to stare, unmoving.

"That's not fair," I begin, but I feel so weak. I already know I'm going to let myself down and give in to her.

"Life sucks, get a helmet," she grins, but it's just that mask of hers again, fake, a cover for the pain I see welling up in her eyes as she struggles out of her jeans, pushing them down over her hips as she pushes herself back on the bed until she's lounging against the pillows, looking like some kind of marble statue of some ancient Asian Goddess of Beauty and Desire, her long legs stretched out, her fingers stroking her round hip, her long raven hair spread behind her like a fan.

My knees go weak and no matter how hard I try, I can't look away. I want her, and even as my brain screams 'no' my feet move forward until I'm crawling onto the bed and kissing her, forcing her ruby red lips apart with my tongue and pulling her long legs around my hips as I free myself to plunge into her, over and over, cursing her with every stroke and damning myself for my weakness as her nails dig into my shoulders and her body arches up against mine.

* * *

Pacing like a caged tiger, I walk around his condo, wishing I could sleep, wishing I wasn't awake and thinking. It isn't fair. Every joint in my body is aching, I'm exhausted, and his bed is so warm and soft, but I can't make my mind shut off.

I wasn't there. I didn't pick her up. It's my fault.

My father's going to kill me.

It's _all_ my fault.

My brother won't be able to look after himself.

I'm going to have to move home.

I don't want to move home. I want to stay here, and by here, I mean with Jarkko.

I love Jarkko.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

"Are you going to tell me what you're running from?" his voice sends a shiver up my spine and a tingle down below in parts that should be in need of a break but come alive as his warm skin presses against mine, as his chest presses up against my back and his arms slide around me, enfolding me in his embrace as he nuzzles my neck.

"Not you, if that makes you feel better," I answer quietly, closing my eyes and willing my body to respond, even though I know I'm past the point where, even as good as he is, I'm going to be able to trick my mind into thinking about anything else. I feel his hand slide up to my shoulder and pause there, mid rub, and I can almost hear the gears ticking over in his head. "Ask, you know you want to," I sigh, leaning into him.

"You mean…was I really your first choice tonight?" he asks quietly, his voice warm against my cheek. I nod, lacing my fingers with his and pulling his arm tight around my waist before arching my neck and laying my cheek against the pulse in his. "So you and Sidney…," his voice trails off as he tightens his grip on me, and I have to wonder to myself if he's even aware of how hard he's holding onto me.

"Forget him," I sigh, closing my eyes and turning to bury my face in the crook of his neck, trailing my fingertips over the chiseled edges of his abs, "I have."

"Have you?" he asks, his voice still husky with sleep and the remnants of desire as he cups my chin in his hand and turns my eyes up to his. "Have you really?"

"I'm here aren't I?" I reply, daring him not to believe me as he searches my determined gaze. "Life's too short to play games. I want you, I want to be with you, and I don't intend to let go anytime soon," I add, wrapping my arm around his waist and laying my head on his shoulder.

"Can I ask one more question?" he asks quietly, his fingers stroking through my hair, slowly, methodically, comfortingly. I nod, the slightest movement of my head against his skin. "What happened tonight? Why tonight?"

My hand pauses over the beat of his heart, feeling each beat against my palm, and I keep thinking how warm and alive he is and how my body has never felt as alive as it does pressed against his.

My mother would have disapproved.

Screw her. She's dead.

Taking his hand, I slide it under the robe I've stolen from the back of his bathroom door and press it over my heart, hoping he can feel the steady even beat of my heart like I can his. We just stand there, for a long time, in silence, my hand pressed over his and then I touch my lips to his and take his hand.

"Take me back to bed."

"Carmen…?" he gives me a little shake of his head, but I only press my lips to his again.

"We'll talk, in the morning. I'm not ready yet," I whisper, nipping his bottom lip.

"Carmen," he groans, exasperated and turned on at the same time as I slide my other hand between us and begin to stroke him slowly, feeling him fill my hand as he rises to the occasion.

"Trust me," I mumble against his lips, "I know what's best for me, and right now, I need you to make me think about something else." With a sigh he gives in, sweeping me up off of my feet and into his arms and marches me back to bed.


	13. Chapter 13

C13

You know when a dog leans out the window of a car and sniffs the air, how blissful they look? That's me on the Engine, sniffing the air for smoke, my entire body bristling with adrenalin the nearer to the call that we get. I almost want to thank the fire bug for starting so early this afternoon, knowing we'll have the fire out and I'll be able to sleep in my own bed tonight, knowing the next shift can take care of his handiwork tomorrow.

Sleep, well hopefully not. It's the first game of the playoffs tomorrow. He'll be wired, and the adrenalin will still be pumping hard in my veins by the time I get home. No, there probably won't be that much sleep tonight. But hell, I'm not one to complain.

I look around at the faces of the crew and see the same sparkle in their eyes, they're looking forward to this as much as I am. Not that we're not taking it seriously but you don't become a firefighter or a cop for the hours of sitting around playing cards and eating spaghetti bolognaise. _This _is what it's about; the smoke, the crackle of the flames, the roar of a three alarm, and if you're lucky, saving someone's life. That's where the rush kicks in, that's why you work out and run up and down ten flights of stairs in full gear carrying a hose and pick axe and an oxygen tank. To be the hero, to have little kids look up at you like you're superman or in my case, wonderwoman.

"Shit! Hold on," Cabbie's voice crackles over our headsets, and every hand goes for the holy shit bar over their heads. Fucking Sunday drivers. If people only knew how hard it is to get one of these big red babies stopped they would get the fuck out of the way.

"What is it Cab?" Jboy asks as the Engine swings hard to avoid something or someone, tipping it and us dangerously as we scramble to hold tight.

"Fucking lookie-loos, there's an m.v.a. ahead, sorry guys." We all groan in unison, knowing exactly what that means without having to be told. Some other ladder group will get to the fire ahead of us while we're cutting some idiot out of their car. Great.

Jboy, Jason, rolls his eyes over at me, and I nod. Nothing more needs to be said. We're the closest Engine and he and I are the only trained paramedics on it. Sucks to be us.

"Looks bad," Cabbie calls as we bail on the Engine, grabbing the jaws and the other tools of our trade as we hit the pavement. You'd think that assessment would make us hurry but as the adrenalin drains, it only makes your body ache, and it slows you down. For some reason saving someone on the ground just doesn't have the same rush as it does climbing down a ladder with them from out of the flames. Especially not when you can see the flames from here, and see Ladder 22 waving gleefully at us as they head into the building.

"Fuckers," Jason groans as he jogs beside me with the medical kit under his arm. I agree with a nod, turning my attention the mess of what's left of a high end car in the intersection. Cabbie's right, it looks bad. Just looking at it, I'd lay odds that we won't be needed here except to direct traffic. Fabulous.

"Shit," Jason hisses between clenched teeth as he kneels in the glass and a growing puddle of oil and gas to look into the overturned car. "Can you get in there Jen?" he asks, turning to look at me over his shoulder.

I want to tell him to fuck off, that I'm not getting into that ticking time bomb, but the look in his eyes tells me not to argue, that it's important, that I might be the only chance whoever's in there has. Shit.

I touch my hand to my helmet, not wanting to take it off, but I do, and shrug my jacket off too, before crawling on hands and knees onto the headliner of the car, surprised that I can still smell that 'new car' leather over the gas and oil and blood. Lots of blood.

She's damn near cut in two as she hangs out over the hood of the car, half in, half out. I bite back my comment about how she should have been wearing her seat belt as I reach out to wipe her hair and blood out of her eyes, surprised to see her pupils tracking me. I'd expected her to be dead with the amount of blood on the dashboard.

"We're gonna get you out of here," I promise, knowing full well that we will whether she makes it or not. I'm betting not. She nods, a small movement mostly of her chin as she stares at me with wide eyes. I run my hand over hers', mostly because I don't know where to start. With her leg that's twisted in all the wrong ways and partially stuck behind the steering wheel, or her arm that's lying at an odd angle with the bone sticking out, or her chest that's lying across the jagged edge of what's left of the steering wheel. "Just keep still," I smile, because that's what I've been trained to do, smile, encourage, make them comfortable. "I'll be right back," I give her hand a pat and start to back out, but she manages to grab my hand and shake her head.

"No," she groans, wincing as the blood bubbles from the wounds in her chest.

"I have to go get some medicine," I smile, forcing myself to look cheerful. "I'll be right back, I promise."

"Daughter," she grumbles, coughing, blood spilling from between her lips. It's a bad sign. I'd wanted to get her some morphine, but I'm not sure that even that's going to help her now. I crawl back towards her, scanning the car, looking for a kid in a car seat or on the floor or…. "Daughter," she says again, pushing something towards me, a cell phone, a number blinking on the screen. Shit. She must have been trying to call her.

"Holy fuck!" Jason howls, and I have a moment to think he can't possibly know or understand what I'm looking at, when I feel the heat flood the car, and hear that sound, the sound of a spark hitting a pool of gas….

* * *

"I want you all to get lots of rest, drink lots of fluids. I want you bright eyed and bushy tailed for tomorrow," Therrien warns us all as we hold eachother up after a good half hour bag skate, from which not one of us was exempt, not me, not Roberts, no one. After sitting me last game, he must be kidding. I'm chomping at the bit to play.

But mostly right now I'm chomping at the bit to get the hell out of here. With every stride during practice all I could think of was, is she alive or is she dead? What kind of person am I that I didn't go straight to the hospital? An idiot and a coward that's what kind. Even someone who was just a friend would have skipped practice to go to the hospital, or at least have called the firehouse, surely?

I can't believe how stupid I've been. I should have at least admitted to myself that I have feelings for her…have or had? God, she could be dead for all I know. I might never get to tell her.

Pulling on my shoes I grab my keys and head for the parking lot, without so much as saying good bye to anyone. I should have at least stopped to say something to Ruuts, tell him the way with Carmen is free and clear, but I can always do that tomorrow. At least he has a tomorrow. I may have blown my chance at a tomorrow with Jen.

Flicking on the radio, I scan the dial for news, but everything is the same as it was before we hit the ice. Firefighters injured, no updates, no names released, their conditions remain grave. Grave. What does that even mean?

The only saving grace is the fire house and the hospital is only a couple blocks from the arena. I could go to the firehouse, but…but I have to see her.

I throw a handful of change into the parking meter outside the hospital and walk inside, looking everywhere for a firefighter uniform, but there isn't any in sight. Maybe that's a good sign.

"Can I help you?" a friendly, older nurse steps into my view and smiles encouragingly up at me.

"Um…a friend was brought here, I think," I mumble, realizing all at once that I'm neither family, relative nor friend, not really. The chances of them giving me any information at all are slim but…. "I uh…I come here sometimes, I do some charity work," I begin, and her eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiles.

"I know who you are," she whispers, leaning into me and keeping her voice low. "My husband's a big Pens fan." I plaster a smile on my face, my heart immediately sinking as I assume a request for an autograph is about to be forthcoming. "Do you have your friend's name?" she asks, turning to walk towards the big desk at the center of the room.

"Jen," I begin, searching my brain desperately for any information I might know about her and cursing myself for agreeing to keep our, whatever it is, on the down low. "She's a firefighter with Mercy…umm Ladder four?" I offer, looking at her hopefully.

"The firemen," she nods, her expression turning serous. "Most of them are waiting up at ICU," she adds, giving me a gentle shove in the direction of the elevators. "Level four," she adds, nodding, "you wish her luck from us." I nod, hoping she can see the gratitude in my eyes as I go into the crowded elevator, pulling the brim of my baseball hat down over my eyes and wishing I wasn't wearing an RBK track suit right now, but I guess everyone here has just as much on their minds, as they all seem to be in their own little worlds right now, and don't take any notice of one more person stepping into the car.

When the doors open on the floor, the sign on the wall says Intensive Care, with an arrow pointing left and yellow shoe prints on the floor. Squaring my shoulders I follow them, taking note of the signs that ask for quiet and no perfumes and to wash your hands, before finally coming across a waiting room full of firemen with wet boots leaving sooty foot prints on the linoleum floor, sitting and standing and guzzling paper cups of coffee.

This must be the right place.

I scan their faces, hoping that she'll be one of them, but all I see are mustaches and three day old beards They all look worried. This can't be good.

"Hey, you're that kid, Sidney Crosby right?" One of the burly guys still wearing his bright yellow jacket calls out from across the room, and all heads swivel to look at me. I nod, a curt one up and down before turning my gaze down the corridor to the swinging doors that are shut and wondering if they'll let me in. "Frank," he says clapping his hand on my shoulder, "I was there at the presentation, the helmet," he adds, making me cringe. God the helmet, honorary fireman, I'd worn that the other night with Jen, told her I was the fire chief and she had to get on her knees and…

"Yeah that's right," I nod, giving myself a little shake to clear the too vivid image in my head. "I uh…I heard what happened and I uh…I was here to visit a kid upstairs but I thought I'd come see how things were," I begin, lying through my teeth as I try and smile through the churning in my gut.

"Thanks kid," he nods, his half smile fading and his eyes filling with tears. "It's been a bad day."

How do I ask how she is? They don't know I'm a friend, hell I don't even know her last name. I try and picture it on her uniform, but all I can see in my head is her smile, her soft lips parting as she laughs…

The doors slide open at the end of the corridor and everyone's attention swivels in that direction, to the bright yellow pants and red suspenders over blue t-shirts, the two big men and the woman they're guiding gently between them, her soot covered face streaked with tears.

My knees almost give way in relief, and then her eyes open and her gaze locks on mine, and she lets out a long sob and opens her arms, and without even a fleeting thought for the fact that we're in public, or that she's surrounded by her co-workers, I walk over to her, take her in my arms and cradle her head against my shoulder.

* * *

I didn't dare hope. I mean, I _hoped _but I didn't actually believe it would come true. One of my best friends and co-workers just died in my arms and even though I knew my other co-workers would be here for me, theirs are not the arms I wanted.

His arms feel like vice grips around me and I don't think I've ever felt safer in my life. With my cheek pressed to his chest, I can hear his heart beating. I've never realized what a comforting sound that could be.

I don't know what the guys thought when he appeared. I'm sure I'll hear about it later, endlessly, but right now, all I care about is this moment, his arms around me, his soft words in my ear, feeling safe and comforted. I'm alive, and safe, and that's all that matters now.

He hasn't asked, and for that I'm so grateful. Flashes of it are still playing behind my eyes like some kind of horror film that I can't forget. The fire, the explosion, Jason screaming and screaming, and oh god, the smell. Wrinkling my nose, I'm sure I can still smell it, scorched flesh.

How I crawled to safety, how without my helmet and jacket that I escaped, I don't know.

That poor woman. I know she was as good as dead but still…

I close my eyes and wish the visions in my head away, turning my eyes instead to those caramel coloured ones that are looking down at me with so many questions that he won't give words to. I want to thank him for saving me, for bringing me home, for holding me and not complaining that I smell like gas or smoke or…or worse, but I can't find the words. I'm afraid if I open my mouth, all I'll do is wail.

"I'll run you a bath," he offers quietly, his voice low and calm, the touch of his fingertips soft on my cheek. I nod, accepting his help to undress, not feeling the least bit like the sex kitten I usually do around him, and I notice how careful he is not to really look, to keep his gaze averted. I'm grateful for that, but mostly I'm grateful that he's still here, a little unsure why, but glad all the same.

He hands me a towel to wrap around myself, as if he's never seen every inch of me before, and I watch him test the water, adjusting the taps until it seems just right and then he picks through my soaps and salts and settles on jasmine oil, pouring it into the hot stream and then replacing the bottle carefully among the rest before turning to me, brushing his hand gently down my cheek and bending to press his lips tenderly to my forehead before turning and pulling the door closed behind him.

I look at the closed door for a long time, considering this new and different Sidney, but somehow that makes me think of Jason, and then I don't want to think anymore, so I slide into the scalding water and close my eyes, wishing the world away.

* * *

Sitting on the edge of her bed, my entire body begins to shake. I'm on the verge of my second kick at the playoffs, and here I am, playing nursemaid to a woman I've just realized I have feelings for. Mario would rip off my head if he knew. What am I doing? Where's my carefully garnered control?

Maybe I can't treat my private life like I do my pre-game rituals but I wasn't ready for this. I liked having her in that little cubby-hole, 'it's just sex'. I thought it was all under control. I thought if I had Carmen, I could keep Jen in her little cubicle and keep feelings and emotions out of it. I thought as long as that was what Jen wanted that I wouldn't fall for her.

Except I have.

When I saw her walk through those doors at the hospital, I felt like I was going to cry. I was so relieved, so incredibly happy that she was okay that I wanted to tell her right then and there, I wanted to get down on one knee and ask her never to leave me again.

Thankfully I was spared that public a show of emotion, but now that we're alone, I'm here and she's on the other side of that door, and I don't have the words to tell her how I feel. Basically I'm a coward. I'm a coward and I wouldn't blame her if she blew me off.

But I have to tell her. After what I went through today, I have to know that she knows.

Taking a deep breath, I tell myself this can't be any harder than playing against Forsberg, and walk over to tap on the bathroom door, but my hand freezes when I hear her sobbing on the other side of the door.

Maybe now isn't the time.

Slipping out of my track suit, I push the door open, leaving my clothes in a pile behind me and slip into the lukewarm water behind her, wrapping my body around hers' and holding her until her tears subside and she begins to relax against me.

As the water begins to cool I realize she's fallen asleep, her breathing shallow and even. With a little difficulty, I carefully lift her, mindful that if I slip, fall and break and a leg, Mario will rip my head off and then shoot me. Balancing her on my lap on the edge of the tub, I wrap her as best I can in a towel, and she only mumbles in her sleep and presses her cheek harder against my shoulder but doesn't wake. Then, just as carefully, I carry her to the bed, slipping beneath the covers with her and curling around her, and in hushed tones, tell her I love her as she lies sleeping in my arms


	14. Chapter 14

C14

"You don't have to do this," I whisper, holding her hand a little tighter as we walk through the cool of the darkened hallway in the catacombs of the hospital. I'm feeling tense and there's a strange prickling at the back of my neck, and I'm not the one going to identify my mother at the morgue.

"Do you see any member of my family here?" she asks, her voice flat, devoid of any sign of emotion, just like when she finally told me about her mom sometime in the early hours of the morning and just like when she made each of those phone calls. She's calm and cool, and I can't help but admire her steely determination. I keep waiting for the tears, but they don't come, at least not yet.

"They can do something with dental records, I don't think you _have_ to do this," I add, giving her hand a little tug and stopping her from marching down the hall like a zombie. "I'm just saying. Maybe you're not ready to do this." I stroke her face with the back of my hand and feel my heart flip just a little as she leans into my hand.

"Maybe," she sighs, "but maybe I have to. Maybe I need to see her, prove that the wicked witch is really gone," she adds with a little smile tugging at the corners of her lips. I'm still struggling with the story of emotional abuse and neglect she told me as she lay with her head on my chest. It's not that I don't believe her, it's just that my family is so close, I can't really get my head around what she's told me. I can't relate, but at least I can understand why she's driven to close this chapter of her life.

"Well I'm right here beside you, if you want me to be," I add, that niggling voice in the back of my head still telling me it's not really me she wants so much as just someone, anyone to support her right now.

"And here I was about to suggest you could stay out here if it's going to be too much for you," her little grin reaches up into her eyes and that playful sparkle that first tugged at my heart strings returns. "I mean, I know the sight of a little blood can make some big guys queasy and…," I don't let her finish teasing me, instead I press my lips over hers' and kiss her into silence, wrapping her up in my arms and pulling her hard against me.

Before last night I fooled myself into thinking this was a crush, the feelings I had weren't real, that I was attracted to her but that's as far as it went. But now, after watching her struggle to tell me about her difficult and damaging relationship with her mother and watching her silently take the abuse from her father over the phone, now I respect her, and I want to protect her at the same time.

As we come up for air, I see the first glimmer of tears that I've seen since she called her uncle, a man whose hand I'd like to shake if only because he seems to be the only sane member of her family. As for the rest…well, like she says, they're not worth thinking about. As I reach out to touch her cheek, she turns her head away, and pulls away from me, leaving me standing there, not knowing what to do.

"I think I need to do this on my own," she says quietly, her back to me as she wipes brusquely at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"And I don't think you should," I put my hands on her shoulders and pull her back towards me, nuzzling at her neck, and just like last night, she seems to relax into me as I nibble at her earlobe.

"I'm afraid…," she begins, her voice small and tight as she reaches up to run her hand over the stubble on my head, "I'm afraid if you're there I'll fall apart."

"So fall apart Carmen, I'll catch you, I swear. And then maybe we can put you back together better, stronger, like the bionic woman," I add, hearing her catch her breath at my words, hoping not to scare her away as I add the last, trying to cover the earnestness of my words with humour.

I wait for her to say or do something, but instead I feel her steel herself, raising herself up to her full height, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin, and I prepare myself for her to walk away from me, but instead she reaches back for my hand. I put my hand over hers, and fall into step beside her, and together we walk to the door where the orderly has been waiting patiently and trying to keep his eyes averted. As he opens the door, it's my turn to steel myself. I'd much rather have Sean Avery jaw at me all night then walk into a morgue, but I won't let her know that and I'm not going to let her down.

* * *

I try to concentrate on Jarkko's hand curled around mine, on how solid his body feels behind mine, but as they wheel the sheet draped gurney out I begin to shake all the same. I expected it to be like you see in CSI or something, behind glass, distant, not…not right in front of me. I glance at the glove covered hand of the orderly and I can't make myself nod, can't tell him to raise the sheet. Suddenly I just know when he does I'm going to cry. Not because of her, never that but for me, and because of all she robbed from me.

"Ready?" Jarkko whispers, gathering me against him, his arms like thick heavy vines criss-crossing my waist as he leans me back against him, like he knows I'm feeling faint from the smell of bleach and embalming fluid. I nod, one quick movement, and then the orderly begins to roll back the sheet.

Jarkko gives my hand a hard squeeze as she emerges before me, looking like she's asleep, or she would if it weren't for the livid burns on her shoulders, and the bruising on her face that tell me something far less innocent is at hand. I don't remember her ever looking this peaceful. Of course the last memories I have of her is standing on the front steps calling me awful names in front of the neighbors, but still…she looks like she might be at peace. Not like I believe in heaven, not exactly, but maybe there's a place for her where she's not standing ass deep in molten lava…maybe.

"Is this…your mother?" I look up to see the female officer from yesterday standing at the foot of the gurney.

"Yes," I nod, and she motions for the orderly to cover her up again, but I put my hand out, stopping the sheet from covering her face. "Not yet." Jarkko releases my hand, like he knows, even though I haven't told him what I'd planned. I turn to give him a grateful smile, and he looks down at me with such tenderness, it just about makes me cry. But I won't cry. Not now, not for her, and not in front of these people.

So instead, I reach into my pocket and pull out the chain the officer had given me and slowly reach down, touching her cold dead skin with my hands. It makes me shudder, the way she feels clammy, like clay almost, but I lift her head in my hands and slip the necklace around her neck, letting her head down gently and then I do up the clasp before centering the characters at her throat. Maybe she wasn't much of one, but she was the only mom I had.

"We'll let you know when the body can be released," the orderly says quietly. I notice he says body and not her, but it doesn't bother me.

"That's okay," I shake my head, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a card with a name, number and address carefully printed on it. "Let them know. They'll arrange for the shipping."

Only then do I stand back and let them cover her and roll her away. I think about saying good bye, but then, she can't hear me, so instead I reach for Jarkko's hand again and let him lead me back out into the hall.

Once the door is closed behind us, he draws me into the circle of his arms and just holds me. He doesn't say anything for the longest time, just allows me to lean against him, my cheek resting on his chest, listening to the strong steady rhythm of his heart beat. It's only when I let out a sigh and pull back that he tips my chin up and searches my gaze.

"I think that was really brave, what you did in there," he says seriously, looking very serious and even a little worried.

"It wasn't brave," I shrug, "it was necessary. My dad will be expecting that to be there."

"Still, I'm not sure I could have done that," he adds quietly, stroking my cheek until I lean into his hand, kissing his palm.

"But you _like _your mother," I point out dryly, leaning my head back onto his shoulder. "Can we go now? I need some air."

"Right, of course," he mumbles, turning us in the direction from which we came and heading back out into the light.

* * *

It's obvious she's not expecting to see me as her eyes blink open to find me lounging on the bed beside her where I've been watching her sleep for a while now. It was good to see that she seemed to be having peaceful dreams after everything that happened last night. She looks like an angel, even with the angry red welt on her forehead around those few little stitches. I wish the trainers could learn to stitch that small and neat. It's not that I hadn't ever looked at her, just maybe not seen her. At least I'd never seen her sleep before.

I see her blink away the confusion and the surprise, but I've seen it, and it makes me feel guilty. Not that I don't deserve it. I've left every other night that I've been at this house, usually almost as soon as she's fallen asleep, so of course she would have had no expectation of my being here.

"I'm sorry about last night," she mumbles, gathering the sheet up around her chest and sitting up against the pillows, like she's trying to get away from me, and then she stops and sniffs at the air and then turns her eyes back on me, wide and surprised. "You cooked…breakfast?"

"Cooking," I correct her with a grin, sliding off the bed to give her some space, even though every cell in my body wants to reach out and cradle her still. "So if you want a shower or um, just to get dressed," I add as she glances quickly under the sheet.

"I think I can still smell smoke in my hair," she mumbles, gathering the sheets around her and sliding off the bed, heading in the direction of the bathroom before she turns and glances back at me. "Will you…will you still be here when I'm done?" she asks quietly, like she's expecting me to say no.

"Someone's got to make sure the bacon doesn't burn," I smile at her, wondering who this quiet timid woman is, and why my heart is beating so fast. She nods, a little smile playing at the corners of her lips and her cheeks begin to turn pink, but she quickly turns and pulls the bathroom door closed behind her.

I stare at the closed door for a long moment, almost feeling a little lost. Part of me wants to go in, offer to scrub her back and turn that into something else, but the part of me that was brought up a gentleman turns and goes back to the kitchen to watch over the bacon and throw some eggs into hard boil.

* * *

What's _he _doing here?

It's embarrassing enough that I sobbed like a baby in his arms last night and he was sweet enough to bring me home, but stay the night? He's _never_ stayed the night. Not even when I've worn out his young body enough that he's actually fallen asleep and I've _never_ woken up to the smell of coffee in this apartment before.

He's cooking _me_ breakfast.

Oh god he's looking after me. That automatically turns him into boyfriend material.

No. That can't be it. He's just being nice. I've suffered a trauma and he's being a good Canadian kid. He's always been well mannered. Even the first time we had sex, he thanked me afterwards. I'd almost laughed except he was so sincere.

Turning my face up into the stream of hot water, I try to clear my head, tell myself this means nothing and remind myself that I have more important things to think about. Like that lady in the car. What happened to her?

Try as I might, the only thing I can remember is hearing Jason shout and then the heat and then…nothing. Not until waking up in the ambulance.

Which reminds me, damn! Too late. I reach up to wipe the soap from the stitches on my forehead. Damn. That must be pretty.

At least I'll finally have a scar. Maybe now the guys at the house will finally treat me like one of them. Jason is the only one who…_was_…Jason _was_…. Damn.

Images flood my mind and I shut my eyes tight against them but they keep flashing behind my eyes. The car tires screaming as it went around the rig, skidding in the gas and oil and knocking Jason through the air. The spark, the heat, the flames….

* * *

I hear her crying, no _sobbing_, even over the spitting of the bacon in the pan, and without a second thought, I turn everything off and go the bathroom door, knocking softly and calling her name. I try the door, but unlike last night, this time it's locked. But just as I'm about to put my shoulder to the door, I hear the water stop and then the sound of the shower curtain being drawn aside.

I listen to her wet feet padding cross the floor, and then the bathroom door opens and she's standing before me in a towel with another towel wrapped around her head, digging through the medicine cabinet like nothing's happened, like she wasn't just crying her heart out a minute ago.

She doesn't trust me. Not even after last night.

This would be so much easier if just looking at her didn't make me want to hold her.

"Breakfast ready?" she asks nonchalantly, barely giving me more than a cursory glance in the mirror. Okay, now my pride's definitely hurt. "I assume you have somewhere you have to be?" she adds as I turn to leave, and when I look back up, I can see the wariness in her eyes as she gazes back at me in the mirror, waiting for me to reply.

"I want to be here for you," I blurt out, and she blinks in surprise, her red rimmed eyes going wide just like they did when she woke this morning. When she realizes I'm watching her she lets her hair fall into her eyes, but not before I've seen the pink in her cheeks. Damn women and their mixed signals.

"I'm…I'm fine," she mutters, digging in her make up case, but when she raises her mascara wand to her face, I can clearly see her hand shaking. Striding forward, I grasp her hand, gently leading the wand back into the tube and then peeling her fingers from it, and then holding her hands in mine, I run my thumbs over her knuckles until she turns her gaze up to meet mine.

"It's okay that you're upset, you don't have to pretend not to be," I whisper, her soft lips calling to mine, and I give in, kissing her softly until her lips press back against mine and her body begins to conform to mine as I let go of her hands and cup her cheeks in my hands as her lips open to invite my tongue. My body comes alive, a current of electricity shooting through her to me, right down to my toes, as if she's lightening and I'm a tree.

But then, just as soon as it's begun, she pulls back from me, shaking her head, her eyes shut tight.

"No, I'm sorry," she whispers, shaking her head as she blinks up at me. "I can't…I can't stop thinking about Jason." She turns from me but I don't let her get away, wrapping my arms around her and losing myself in the scent of her freshly washed hair.

"That's okay," I whisper, holding her tight, "I'm here, whenever you need me, I'm here." It takes a moment, but she finally runs her hands over mine and leans back into me, just for a moment and then she pushes me away and goes back to brushing her hair.

"So…is breakfast ready?" she asks, like nothing's happened between us at all. I remind myself that she's been through hell, and leave her to her thoughts, leaving the bathroom door open behind me as I head back to the kitchen, all the while, willing my heart beat to slow.


	15. Chapter 15

C15

We rocked them in their own house. I scored in a god damn play off game and even Therrien's singing my damn praises for a change. We're gonna be celebrating tonight, and I feel…empty. Sure I'll be calling Tuomo and serving him up a big slice of humble pie and I'm sure that will go a little ways to making me feel better but there's someone else I want to share this with but…she needs some 'space'.

Okay so she had to go home and deal with family stuff but she could at least answer her cell. I mean, if we really had been getting somewhere, she'd answer her phone, wouldn't she? I mean, if she called me I'd answer it on the first ring, but she doesn't even return _voice mail_.

I'm sure she's got a lot to do and I'm sure she's dealing with a lot but if we had a connection she'd at least send me an email or _something_. Otherwise why did she leave me all these contact numbers?

Women! This is supposed to be my play off run, my chance at holding that damn cup and I'm not supposed to be thinking about anything else. I'm getting that ring and then no one can ever take that away from me, and no one can ever tell me that I'm not good enough and I can rub it in to Tuomo and….

And I miss Carmen.

Maybe if I'd been able to go with her, be there for her, things would be different. But she has to understand, I mean it's the damn playoffs. She told me that she understood and that I wasn't supposed to worry about her. She said she'd be back in time for game five. Well there's no game five, but now I've got sometime, I don't know, a week or something to do nothing but work out and she's not even returning a damn email. What's a guy supposed to think?

"What are you trying to do? Kill yourself mon ami?" Big Georges lifts my earphones and snaps my attention away from the dark thoughts swarming my brain.

"No," I sigh, slowing down on the bike and reaching for the towel hanging over the handlebars. "Just…trying to think my way through things."

"Things huh?" he laughs, raising his eyebrow at me and shaking his head. "Or woman thing?"

"Busted," I sigh, climbing off the bike and following him to the showers.

"Can't live with them, can't shoot 'em, too pretty," he laughs as he pats my back and shoves me ahead of him.

* * *

"Well, well, I was beginning to wonder if you were coming," Carmen looks over the screen of her laptop at me and smiles, pushing her books aside to make room for me beside her at the table at the back of the café. My stomach churns uncomfortably and a voice in the back of my mind tells me that I can still turn around and go back to the comfort and darkness of my bed, but the cool metal in my hand won't let me do that. Besides, a week of not moving farther than my bed to the fridge and back, and I can do with the fresh air. I should be grateful to her for that, if nothing else.

And I've got a job to do. I'm almost sure that's what she wanted from me. Fates a funny mistress like that.

"I thought you said you were a wreck," I put my coffee cup down and play with the edges of the bag with the scone in it, knowing that chances are if I try and eat it, I'll toss my cookies all over her homework.

"Believe me, I'm a _total_ wreck. I have all kinds of shit due. I mean, I did get _some_ extensions but now it's all due and I am _so_ behind," she sighs, closing her lap top and setting it aside, which I'm sure is the last thing she should be doing to do right about now if what she says is true. "But you, you look like shit," she adds cheerfully. "Thank god, because you know what they say, misery loves company."

"Funny," I sigh, "I haven't felt like company and I know I wouldn't have been good company this week," I add, still yearning for the comfort of my bed.

"So no _special_ visitors lately?" she asks, raising her eyebrow at me and for some reason just thinking about him brings heat to my cheeks. Funny. I don't remember it having that effect on me before.

"No…well, he stayed for the first time but…listen Carmen, I have to tell you…."

"He stayed? Well that's growth right? I mean it's a good sign, he's comfy and…," I shake my head and sigh, unable to look up at her.

"Carmen, the accident," I begin, not quite knowing what to say despite the fact that I practiced it a hundred times on the way over here.

"My mom? How'd you know?" she asks, her voice getting tight and quiet. I look up at her, and shrug. There's not going to be an easy way to explain it, so I pull out the phone and hand it to her.

At first she just looks across the table at it, like it's some kind of alien that's just landed in the middle of the table and it might bite, but then she reaches out and just brushes her long fingers over it, like she's trying to see if it's real or her fingers are going to pass through it. Then, I guess when it's past the reality test, she takes it and puts in her hand and turns it on, and begins going through the settings.

* * *

"I wondered where this was," I mumble, almost to myself. I'd half thought it had been stolen at the scene. I was even ready to accuse someone at the hospital of having stolen it out of her purse. I've heard of shit like that happening. "This was like…she was attached to this. I guess her clients called her on it," I add, as if somehow I have to explain why a cell phone is important. She doesn't say anything. She just sits there and watches me, silent. "Where…how?" I can't quite ask, can't quite make my mouth work.

Funny. A week of listening to people I didn't know or barely even recognize telling me how wonderful my evil bitch of a mother was, of accepting strangers apologies and kind thoughts hasn't made any of this feel quite as real as holding her charred phone in my hand does.

"Our rig was the first responder," she begins quietly, her gaze intent on the edge of the brown paper bag that she's slowly ripping around one of those tri-cornered scones. "I was in the car with her," she adds, glancing up at me, her brown eyes glistening with tears. "She handed that to me, she was trying to tell me something about you when…when…," her voice breaks and tears begin streaming down her face and she looks away, hiding her face from me.

I'd heard about the fireman that had been hurt at the scene. The cop that had met us at the morgue had followed us out to the car and told me. Like she thought I ought to know. I guess she thought I might find it comforting. I hadn't. But then I hadn't really thought much about it until now.

I never thought of that fireman being someone's friend, someone's co-worker, someone's son, someone's husband. I hadn't wanted to really think about my mother, let alone any one else.

"I'm sorry Jen," I begin, and she glances up, like she's feeling guilty for crying. "He was on your rig? The one that was…that died?" She nods, hiccupping as she tries to keep from sobbing out loud. I hand her a fistful of paper napkins, wishing they didn't feel so much like sandpaper. Damn eco friendly café.

"No I'm sorry," she sniffs, accepting the napkin and blowing her nose heartily into it. "Here's me crying over Jason when you've just lost your mom."

"Don't worry about me," I mutter, handing her more napkins before digging in my bag to see if I have anything softer. The thing about not being much of a crier is I don't carry Kleenex with me. "Like I told you, I wasn't exactly looking forward to seeing her. She probably wanted you to phone me and tell me what an ungrateful daughter I was for not picking her up," I add, watching her eyes go round with shock. "She wasn't exactly up for mother of the year," I try and explain and then decide it's easier just to shut up than to explain my dysfunctional family to someone who obviously doesn't know the meaning of it. "I'm sure Jason was a great guy."

"He was," she manages to sniff, waving away the offer of more napkins as she dabs gently at her already raw looking nose with one. "I'm sorry. I guess you can tell why they have me on stress leave. It's so embarrassing considering I spend all my time trying to be as tough as the guys and now I can't stop crying." She rolls her eyes and tries to smile but her bottom lip trembles and tears begin streaking down her cheeks again.

I get up and walk around the table and put my arms around her, remembering how good it felt just to have the solidity of Jarkko behind me, just to know he was there had made all of it easier to deal with.

It's funny. I didn't expect to miss him. I expected to be so busy with all my family shit that I wouldn't have time to think about him. But every night I was gone I lay awake wondering if he was thinking about me too. I know he's been thinking about me some, he's called once or twice, I just haven't wanted to drag him into the pit of my personal hell when he needs to be thinking about what he needs to accomplish out on the ice. After all, it's not all about me, as much as I feel a little lost at sea right now.

"I'm here for you," I tell Jen, giving her shoulders a little squeeze. "And just so you know, I'm glad you were there with her, and that you're okay," I add, realizing it's true. I don't tell her I'd have been pissed if one of those hot guys she works with had been in the car with her. That's just my twisted little brain at work, and those kinds of thoughts are best kept to myself, just like the ones I've been having about Jarkko. He doesn't need me making sexual demands on him when he's got to save up all his energy for the games ahead. Still, I can't help that little part of me hoping that they might lose soon so I can pounce on him and take out all my pent up aggressions and frustrations on him, yeah, so much better to keep all that stuff to myself. "Better?" I ask, standing back and thinking how unfair it is that even with puffy red-rimmed eyes and a chapped nose that she still looks adorable.

She begins to nod and then something snares her gaze and her eyes go impossibly wide. I glance over my shoulder to see a group of guys making their way towards the cashier to order, and have that sinking feeling myself.

Damn! I knew there was something I'd forgotten to do. I'd meant to at least call Sid and tell him that we were over, done, kaput. Funny, I hadn't really given him more than a second thought until right now as he gazes around the café, I assuming, looking for me. I can't help but think he's incredibly handsome, but my heart no longer skips a beat when I see him. I guess, considering I all but told Jarkko I'm in love with him, that that's a good thing.

"I…I have to go," I turn at the sound of her chair scraping backwards as she scrambles to gather the balls of crumpled napkin off the table, alarm clear on her face.

"You don't, it's okay, we can talk," I offer, but she only shakes her head as she glances quickly in the direction of the line up, and as I follow her gaze, I see his head swivel in our direction and the same alarm registers in his café au lait eyes.

"No, you don't understand," she mumbles, giving me a quick hug and then backing away, "I'm sorry, I just…I can't see him right now, things are just too messed up." Him? I glance back at the line up to see Sid basically staring at the two of us in utter panic mode, his eyes round, gnawing full time on the corner of his lip like he does when he's upset. Huh….Sam my ass. Suddenly things are making all kinds of sense to me. "I'm sorry, I'd explain but I'm not supposed to say anything," she hisses, turning her back and basically running out the back of the café.

* * *

I watch her pony tail swinging as she leaves and feel a wave of relief rush over me.

At least one thing isn't going to be as hard as I thought it was going to be.

"Congratulations," she purrs, her dark eyes following me with a predatory look in her eye as I sit across the table in the same chair that Jen was just sitting in. I can feel my heart thundering in my chest and as I look across at her, I wonder if she can hear it. I had actually hoped to run into Jen here, knowing how much she likes the coffee here, and even if she wasn't going to answer my calls or texts, and even if she is on administrative leave, I thought I might find her here. I've often gotten a kick out of showing up here when the Engine makes a coffee run and seeing her go all red when I walk past them on the truck. I'd been thinking about that as I drove up, how cute she is when she's trying not to let anyone see that we know each other. I hadn't even thought about Carmen.

Seeing them together, well, it was the worst sort of nightmare I can imagine. I've had every intention of letting Carmen down easy, but then Ruuts said something about her mom dying and that she'd had to go home. I thought he'd let me know when she was back, after all, he seems to know everything all of a sudden.

And that's just stupid too. I don't know why I feel a pang of jealousy at him knowing that about Carmen when all I've been able to think of besides hockey is Jen. Even now, as I slide into the seat she's just vacated, it's her I want to chase after, but here I am sitting with Carmen, no wonder Jen doesn't want to even talk to me.

"Congratulations?" I ask quietly, expecting some kind of reprimand or accusation after seeing my girlfriend and mistress together, especially when Jen looked like she'd been crying.

"On tossing the Sens like that. Very masterful," she grins, but it's not her usual open easy smile, it's more like, if she had fangs, she'd be baring them right about now.

"Oh that, yeah, it made a nice change from last season," I sigh, picking at the edge of my cup, trying to figure out if she knows or doesn't know and if there's any chance of still going after Jen.

"Don't sit here and look all glum Sidney, go after her. God, if you're any kind of man at all, run after her. I should know, she needs someone to look after her right now, someone's arms around her," she adds, shaking her head at me. "Go on, before she gets too far," she adds, tilting her head towards the exit and raising her eyebrow at me.

"How…did she tell you or…?" she shakes her head.

"Call it a woman's intuition," she smiles, winking at me. "Go, seriously. Go after her."

"But I need to apologize to you for…," again, she just shakes her head at me, this time pursing her full red lips in consternation.

"I've been fucking Jarkko this whole time, you don't need to apologize," she hisses, quickly glancing around us to see who might be listening. "Now go, for fuck's sake."

With a grateful smile in her direction, I turn and jog out into the parking lot.

* * *

"Jen!" I hear his voice calling my name across the parking lot as I fight to get my key in the lock of my old mustang and I curse its' lack of remote locks as I fumble drop my keys for the tenth time. "Jen!" I curse my self for getting weak in the knees at the sound of his voice, for being so pathetic that my body still reacts to him, that I still crave him, even in my current condition. "Fuck Jen," he growls, sweeping my keys out of my hand as I try and jam the key in the lock again despite the trembling in my hands, "I've been calling you like every day. I've been worried."

"Worried?" she looks up at me through her lashes, tears still clinging to them, and my heart literally cracks in my chest to see the pain in her eyes.

"Yes worried," I whisper, brushing the stray strands of hair away from her cheek. "They said you were on leave and I wondered if you'd been hurt or…," new tears spring from her eyes as my gaze searches hers'. "What? What is it?"

"I wish you'd stop acting like you care, it just makes it so hard," she sobs, pushing against my chest with the palms of her hands even as I wrap my arms around her.

"Makes what harder?" I ask her quietly, realizing that for the first time, I'm holding her in public, and I don't care who sees us.

"Just…just let me go okay? Things are just…it's all messed up and I don't need any more complications right now," she mutters, giving me a good shove, but I won't let her go, not that easily.

"And you think_ I_ do? You think I need to be worrying about _you _right now?" She turns her tear streaked face up and her gaze meets mine, defiance clear in the line of her jaw, the purse of her full lips, the flash in her dark eyes, and a current of electricity runs down my spine and brings me to full attention as sense memories make my skin tingle. How many nights has she looked at me like that, daring me to go further, to push the envelope of my conservative upbringing, to make her scream my name….

"I didn't ask you to worry about me," she hisses, her eyes fluttering shut as I run my hand down her neck to the crook of her shoulder, feeling her pulse racing under my palm as I lean in to press my lips over her carotid.

"But I do," I murmur as I kiss my way back up to hear ear, hearing her draw in a ragged breath as I nip at her earlobe. "After that…that accident, I think I'll always worry if you don't check in with me."

"Check in? I don't have to check in with you, you don't own me," she stammers, giving me a good hard shove. "I don't think that it's a good idea to keep seeing each other," she adds, successfully slamming her key into the lock and yanking open the car door hard enough that it groans and almost smacks into me. With the barrier of the door in between us, she looks over at me, her eyes glistening with tears; that look of defiance wavering at the edges. "Don't call me anymore, and don't come to the house either."

Damn't Sid, tell her. Tell her how you feel. Do it now or lose her forever. I open my mouth to say it, but she just gets in her car and shuts the door, hard. I should pound on the window, I should jump the hood Bo Duke style and get in the car with her and stop her from leaving, I should do any or all of those things, but I don't. I just watch her narrow her eyes at me and shove the car into reverse, smoking the tires as she pulls away and leaves me behind.


	16. Chapter 16

C16

"She doesn't even want to know I'm alive," I sigh, sitting back against my headboard, wishing that Army wasn't so far away right now. When I thought about who I could vent to and who I _wanted_ to talk to about this, there was only one name that came to mind.

"_Can you blame her man? You're throwing a pretty major curve ball at her right now. I mean, I thought you said this was all casual, like mutually."_

"It _is_. I mean it was before but now…"

"_Dude, I'm confused so I'm betting she's probably a little confused too, and besides, from everything you've told me, I'm betting she's not feeling super inclined in the romance department right about now. Why don't you just give her some space to figure it out, you know? It's not like you haven't got anything else to do right now_," he adds with a derisive snort.

"Yeah, yeah I know and I'm not trying to rub it in, I just…I needed to talk to someone about it. She's seriously messing with my fucking head."

"_What about Fleur? Not that I'm not glad to hear from you_," he adds and I can hear the genuine smile in his voice when he says it. It's days like this when I wish he was still around for me to sit and talk to face to face, mano a mano as they say,and I realize just how much I miss him.

"I don't want to take him out of his zone," I explain, smiling to myself, thinking just how well Marc's been doing lately and feeling pretty proud of the little guy from the little town who not so long ago had begun to think he didn't have it in him.

"_I can see that_," Army begins, chuckling. "_So let me guess, you haven't actually told her that your feelings have changed_?"

"I keep trying to. I mean, I start to but…there just hasn't been a good time. I know it sounds pathetic when I say it, but it's true."

"_Have you thought that she might not believe you even when you __**do**__ tell her_?" He asks, and I find myself shaking my head and shrugging at the same time.

"I don't get what you mean?"

"_I mean, she might just think you've just thought of another way of getting in her pants, just to like, freshen it up for yourself, have you thought of that_?"

"You think?"

"_Well I mean, c'mon, I'm not exactly an expert on chicks, but yeah, she might. I mean, you don't know where her head's at_."

"I know where it's not, and that's on me," I sigh, banging my head against the head board in frustration. "So what do I do?"

"_I dunno man, be you? I mean, be the good kid from Coal Harbor instead of Sidney the super stud for a chang_e?"

"I've tried," I grumble. "She just shrugs me off."

"_Well you haven't exactly picked a good time for her Romeo. I mean with what you've been telling me, she's not exactly in the right head space for you to make a big commitment to her. Maybe you should just back off and give her some space_. _I mean, that's probably what __**you**__ would want right_?"

"Yeah but, she's a girl. I thought she'd want a shoulder to cry on," I mumble, trying to get my head around how she could go so cold on me right now. "I thought being there for her would mean something. I thought she would be…I don't know, grateful I guess."

"_Oh man, you're totally coming at this wrong, as usual. You can't think about this from the perspective of __**your**__ needs, this is about her man, about what __**she**__ needs. If she needs space, give it to her but just let her know, gently, that you're there. Don't get all up in her face about it. Let her come to you, and then, when she does, then tell her you've changed your mind. She's not ready to hear it man, so back off her_." Rubbing at my temples I nod, knowing he's probably right but hating to hear it at the same time.

"When, I feel like it's _if_," I add, picking at a developing hole in the knee of my jeans.

"_If the sex is as hot as you've been claiming_," he chuckles, and I know if he was here in front of me that he'd be giving me that look, that 'I don't believe you' grin of his, "_then she'll come back for more_."

"I thought girls weren't about that, I thought it was all roses and romance and shit," I sigh, feeling totally lost now.

"_Have you ever made her make that noise_?" he asks, and this time he really is laughing, but I'm not sure if he's laughing at me or if he's sympathizing with me.

"What noise?" I ask, cringing at the thought of Army making sex noises at me.

"_Oh_ _c'mon, you know_," he laughs, and this time I'm sure it's a nervous laugh.

"No man, tell me," I chuckle, glad it's Army and not Roberts or Ruuts or even Bugsy telling me and imagining Colby turning bright red to the tips of his Spock like ears.

"_You know, the oooooooh oh my god oooooh wow_," he makes this long drawn out effeminate noise and we both end up laughing and I almost fall of the bed as I clutch at my stomach I'm laughing so hard.

"I don't think I've _ever_ heard a woman make _that_ noise," I laugh, shaking my head as I wipe tears from my eyes.

"_Well then you're doing it wrong and the sex wasn't that good_," Army growls, but I can still hear him grinning on the other end of the line. "_Seriously man, what I'm saying is, if you have a connection then, just…give her space but let her know you're there. I don't know what else to tell you man, I'm pretty sure that's the best I can do_."

"Thanks man, I guess I'll try. God knows what I'm doing is so not fucking working right now and I need to do something 'cuz I can't take this shit right now."

"_Well good luck with that and you know, the other shit_." I laugh, thinking that it's like he can't bring himself to say good luck with the playoffs when he's not playing in it. I wish he was and I know he probably does too. Better yet, I wish he was playing with us, but that's all water under the bridge and there's nothing either of us can do about it now.

"Yeah man, thanks."

"_Oh and Sid_?"

"Yeah?"

"_Do_ _you want to borrow some of my girlfriend's eyeliner man, cuz that stache of yours is seriously sad_."

"Thanks man, seriously," I groan, reaching up to run my fingers over the peach fuzz covering my upper lip. "Like you could do better."

"_Miles better man, I'm so much more of a man than you_."

"Fuck you Army."

"_Miss you too Sidney_."

"Yeah, yeah, fuck you anyway." I hang up the phone and close my eyes. I need figure this out. I need my head to be in the game when we start round two. I need to be able to focus. I don't need this playing with my mind. I need to be clear.

I just don't know where to fucking start.

I used to think that it was all just fun and games with Jen, that it was just casual, just sex, and that was fine with me. I told myself I didn't want more than that, that I couldn't afford to be any more committed to anything or anyone outside of hockey. This little arrangement seemed perfect in everyway.

It couldn't just be seeing her torn up by the accident that's turned my heart into mush. Thinking about it, like I've been able to think about much else since that night, I realize that this whole thing with Carmen has just been this huge sham, me pulling the wool over my own eyes.

I'd already been having feelings for Jen, already been thinking about her all the time, already been looking forward to every one of our nights together. I'd just been telling myself it was the physical stuff I was looking forward to, and that's true, to some extent. Besides the sex, which has been mind blowing, paradigm shifting and ridiculously hot, I'd also been looking forward to that sexy little smile of hers when she opens the door, to hearing her throaty laughter, to running my fingers through her hair, to tasting her skin, to lying next to her, to having her fall asleep cuddled against me.

I'd just told myself that she couldn't handle all the attention that having a relationship with me would bring, I never gave her the chance to show me she could. Deep down I knew if I admitted to myself that I was actually falling for her that this would happen, that she would take over my every thought, and that's something I can't afford, especially right now.

But I can't go on like this much longer.

* * *

With his black rbk ball cap pulled down tight and his equally black hoody pulled up over top of it, anyone just glancing at him from the street would be forgiven for thinking he's some sort of teenage hoodlum standing on my doorstep in the middle of the night. I, on the other hand, knew it was him when I heard the knock. He always knocks twice.

My hand shakes as I open the door. Part of me wants to see him, part of me doesn't want to see anyone, not in this condition, not with red swollen eyes and a nose that looks like it belongs on a Christmas decoration, and not in my fuzzy well worn bathrobe. Usually when I meet him at the door I'd be wearing a filmy negligee, maybe heels, and my hair would be down. He likes it down.

Well there's a first time for everything, and I sort of knew he would come. I knew when I left him in the parking lot that he wouldn't listen. He's used to getting what he wants and normally that cocky cheekiness would be appealing. Not tonight though. I'm too tired to even put up a front.

So I pull open the door and step aside to let him in, without so much as a hello. Curling up on the same corner of the sofa I've been on for a week, I turn down the TV but keep my attention on it, afraid if I look directly at him he'll see how vulnerable and weak I am, that I really want him to hold me, to make all the pain go away. But he is pain, I remind myself, digging my fingernails into the palm of my hand. He doesn't care. Not really. He just wants his toy back.

"I need to talk to you," he begins, his voice low, careful, controlled.

"So talk," I sigh, letting my vision blur, withdrawing, pulling my emotional wall closed around me.

"Jen…Jen I…." I hear his trainers scuff on the wood floor as he sits in the easy chair, and out of the corner of my eye I can see him drop his head into his hands, like it's too heavyto hold up. "I've been kind of a jerk to you," he begins again, and when he glances up, I can't help but turn to look into his eyes, dark and wary as he watches me. "You deserve better," he adds, making my heart leap into my throat.

Here it comes, the big kiss off. I'm too much trouble now, no fun, and sure as hell not sexy. I can't blame him, but the tight feeling I get in my chest makes me want to turn back time and erase this moment, postpone it, change it if I can. I can't even remember the last time a guy even looked at me the way he has, never mind treated me as a woman at all. I knew, in the back of my mind it was all too good to be true and it had to end someday, I just don't want it to be like this, an email, a phone call would be better. Something impersonal would make this easier, make it hurt less.

His cinnamon coloured eyes search mine and as he chews on the corner of his bubble gum pink lips and for a moment I'm almost sure he's thinking the same thing, that he doesn't want to do this to me, not now, and I can't help thinking that underneath the cocky bold exterior he likes to show me, is really a good hearted small town Canadian kid.

He'd hate if I called him that. He hates whenever anyone calls him that. Out of everyone, you'd think I'd be the least likely to make that mistake. He's no kid. He's all man, and even now, with my heart sinking, and even with that pitiful excuse for a playoff beard on his otherwise soft young face, I can feel my body coming alive under his gaze, my skin tingling, the heat growing between my thighs.

"I just…I need for you to know that if something happened, something like that accident…if it was you…," his gaze drops and he seems to study a point on the carpet between his toes for a really long time before he looks up at me again, and the look in his eyes is deadly serious. "If it had been you instead of him, I'd be…I'd be really upset."

My heart leaps into my throat and for one long moment I feel like I might never breathe again. There's a world of difference between saying he's here for me and…and _that_. As his gaze searches mine, I feel tears begin to well up in my eyes, and I have to look away. It can't be. This can't be happening. I never dared to think that he…

"Fuck, just say _something_," he mumbles, and when I look over at him, he's wringing his hands and gnawing on the corner of his lip, looking over at me impatiently.

"Me too?" I squeak, barely able to push my voice past the huge ball of emotion stuck in my throat. I'm not sure exactly what he's saying, but it feels like it's something huge and the relief in his eyes and the way his entire body slumps before he pushes himself to his feet and walks over to pull me into his arms, tells me that there's been a major paradigm shift in this strange little corner of my world.

His arms wrap around me, holding me close, his lips touching my cheek, my temple as he settles me onto his lap. Closing my eyes, I inhale his scent, taking comfort in the familiar smell of his skin, of the solidness of chest and the warmth of his body around me. I almost don't want to open my eyes, afraid that I'll wake up and this won't be real, he won't really be here. But his hand cups my chin and he turns my face up to his and his burnt caramel coloured eyes gaze into mine.

"Is this okay? Because I'd be really fucked if I lost you right now," he whispers, his gaze earnestly searching mine. Reaching up, I run one hand over the baby soft whiskers almost covering his top lip, smiling to myself as I shake my head.

"It's okay," I reply quietly, pressing my lips to his and wrapping my arms around his neck as he slowly eases his body into mine, his lips moving slowly, gently, like they've never done before.

Well almost never, apart from the other night. But I'd thought that had only been a one time thing and that everything would go back to the way it was before, all heat, and no feelings. Well almost no feelings…

"Just so you know," he whispers, his lips trailing softly along the line of my jaw, "the thing, with Carmen, was never like it is with you."

"Carmen?" My entire body stiffens, like an arctic wind has blown over my skin and frozen me solid, the warm liquid core of my body hardening against the words bouncing around in my head. "Carmen?" I hiss, pushing away from him and backing across the couch. "You _know_ Carmen?"

"I thought…I saw you talking to her, I assumed…I thought you knew…," he begins, his shoulders drooping as his gaze searches mine, panic written across his features and suddenly it dawns on me, the panic in his eyes at the café hadn't been about us seeing each other in public, it had been about seeing me, with her.

"You…and Carmen?" The fates are bitches. I'd felt sorry for her. All this time I'd been worried about her and her mother and…Jack and Patrick. Fuck. "How could I be so blind? Patrick…that's you," I hiss, turning on him, wrapping my arms around myself and thinking that I need a shower, now, to get his touch off of me. "You're Patrick. You've been…_been_ with her." I choke on the words, feeling that ball of emotion in my throat sink into my chest, and for the second time tonight I feel like I might never be able to breathe again, and right now, I hope I never do. "Go, just…get out, go," I point at the door, withdrawing across the room as his eyes go wide and he opens those soft lips to explain but I only shake my head. "Go, don't come back. I mean it. Just go," I repeat, my heart hammering in my chest as it shatters against my ribs.

Of course it had been too good to be true, I can't help but think as he curses and gets up and paces across the room before turning one more time to look at me as his hand pauses on the door knob. It was too good to be true.

"Jen I…," I shake my head, turning my back on him, feeling the tears begin to streak down my cheeks.

"I don't want to hear it, it's not true," I sob, running the back of my hand across my face to wipe the tears away. "Go, please," I hiss, listening for the creak of the door opening, and then, after a long pause, the door slams and the next thing I hear is the squeal of tires on pavement as his SUV backs out of the driveway, leaving me alone, forever.


	17. Chapter 17

C17

"You have to fix this," he snarls, brushing by me and pacing into my apartment, and around it, like a caged lion. I watch him, blinking between the half light of the hallway and the street light outside, pulling my robe closer around my p.j.'s and trying to decide if I should call the police.

"Fix…what?" I ask, pulling the door closed as he turns and pushes the hood of his jacket back, revealing the pale and drawn face I recognize, even with the ridiculous peach fuzz lining his strong jaw line and covering only half of his upper lip. I smile to myself, thinking I'm glad when he decided to seduce me that he hadn't begun growing that, I don't think that I would have been able to go through with it if he had.

"Jen," he mutters, pacing the rug of the living room, and I have to wonder if he's avoiding the couch, the scene of the crime. I know I haven't been able to sit on it since.

"Fix what?" I repeat, rubbing at my eyes and running my hand along the wall until I find the light switch, turning it on and watching him blink into the light before turning his gaze back on me.

"I thought you might have told her, when I saw you together, I assumed…," he begins, holding his arms out wide and turning his palms upwards, empty and I know how he feels. Empty, like there should be someone in his arms, but there isn't and it's wrong.

"You know what they say about assuming," I sigh, heading into the kitchen to put on the kettle to make some peppermint tea, I can feel a headache coming on.

"You don't need to tell me I've been an ass Carmen," he grumbles, turning a chair around and straddling it, watching me with tired eyes. "I wanted to apologize to you, and I've tried to apologize to Jen and somehow it keeps going wrong."

"So apologize, _properly_," I add, turning my gaze pointedly in his direction, "and don't make this about you either."

"Do I do that?" he asks, quietly, the anger leaking out of him as his posture goes from uptight and aggressive to limp and defeated.

"Now that I've had time to think about it?" I smile over at him, turning to lean against the counter with my arms crossed protectively over my chest. "Yes. Actually I feel pretty stupid, and that's fucking hard for me to admit, so…don't make me do it again," I chuckle, more out of discomfort than anything else. "I've been thinking about it ever since I figured out that you're 'Sam'," I make the bunny ears around the name and shake my head. "I bet it never even occurred to you that you might actually get hurt huh?"

"No," he sighs, leaning his chin on the back of his hands on the chair and making a grumbling sound deep in his throat. "I thought I had everything under control," he adds with a grimace, his gaze somewhere on the floor, but I can see that he's thinking, that he's mulling things over as the muscles in his cheek flex.

"So when did you realize that you were in love with her?" I ask, turning to drop the teabags into the cups and opening the cupboard above to pull out some sugar, in case he wants any.

"When I thought she might be dead," he glances up at me, his gaze searching mine for understanding. "But the more I think about it…it's been happening for a while now, little things, like not really being able to go to sleep without talking to her," he shrugs, the 'do you know what I mean' left unsaid but hanging in the air between us.

"Did you tell _her _that?" I ask, tilting my head to listen to the water beginning to simmer.

"Yes," he insists, but then his eyes glaze over and he shakes his head. "No, not really. I guess I just told her that I'm worrying about her." I roll my eyes at him and fight the urge to walk over and cuff him across the head.

"As unromantic as he is, at least Jarkko can come out and say what he's thinking," I sigh, thinking about the big pale Fin and how abrupt and straightforward he can be. "It takes some getting used to but you might try it sometime, you know, telling people what you're really thinking," I add with a smile that makes him grimace again.

"She's the one who said she wanted it casual, I was worried she'd just turn me down," he grips the back of the chair tighter, and I think I can hear the wood creak under his fingers, but it makes me think of someone else's hands and I have to shake off the sense memory and blink myself back to reality.

"Turn you down, uh huh," I chuckle, turning as the button clicks off to let me know the water's boiling, and pouring it into the two cups and then walking slowly over to the table, careful not to let any spill, and that strikes me as funny, as my mother's shrill voice plays in my head. "Jen's in love with you, dummy," I chuckle as I slide the cup in front of him as he turns toward the table. "She hasn't wanted to scare you away by telling you, but she does."

"Loves me?" he asks quietly, rolling his tongue around the word like it's something foreign, something maybe Geno would say.

"Are you really this dense?" I shake my head at him as I lift the cup and take a deep breath of the invigorating steam. "Yes loves you as in wants to be with you forever and have your babies and all that. She just, doesn't want to admit it out loud to herself, never mind you," I add, closing my eyes in pure bliss, before the realization that I've just made one of those 'hello pot, this is kettle' statements. "Huh," I smile to myself and am busy laughing at my own stupidity when I realize that Sid's still talking.

"You have to fix this, you have to tell her it didn't mean anything. I mean, no offense but…like you said, you and Ruuts…," he pleads, his hands out palms up, little kicked puppy dog look on his face.

"Sure, I can tell her that we were both sort of…experimenting," I sigh, shaking my head at myself as much as him. "But in the end, you're the only one who can fix this, Mr. Bootycall," I add, just for fun, and just to see him cringe.

"What's going on out here?" Peter calls, blinking as he walks into the kitchen and immediately goes for the cupboard and pulls out a bag of chips. I stare at him, watching him walk around the kitchen in his sequined boxer shorts, wondering when he's going to notice Sidney and finally getting the 'oh my god' big eyes and heading for the safety and privacy of his bedroom at a trot when he sees who's under the brim of the baseball cap.

"You have to tell her you love her Sidney, but you've got a big mountain to climb there. I can't blame her if she doesn't trust you, I'm not sure you're very trustworthy," I add, just because I can, because kicking a guy when he's down is kinda fun, and he deserves it, which just makes it better.

"I'm sorry Carmen," he grumbles, poking at the teabag floating at the top of the cup, "I was trying to make you into something you're not, and I'm sorry."

"No, you were trying to put a barrier between Jen and your feelings," I point out, to which he silently nods.

"Yeah, maybe you're right, and I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that, and I hope you and Ruuts are happy and that maybe you can both forgive me for being such an ass," he sighs, glancing up at me with that kicked puppy expression again.

"I forgive you," I smile over at him, "but only because I'm pretty damn stupid myself and I think I was pretty much doing the same thing, although, I don't think I realized I was doing it, but still. I'm not much better than you. As for Jarkko…well, you'll have to take your chances with him." I sigh, shaking my head at myself. "So here's to figuring out priorities and getting our shit together," I add, lifting my cup in salute, which makes Sid laugh, sardonically.

"Getting our shit together and telling the truth," he adds, lifting his cup to clink against mine.

* * *

"Put this on, we're going," Carmen brushes past me into the house, like she owns the place or something, and goes straight to the sofa, kicking her heels up on the coffee table and unzipping her leather jacket to show her t-shirt, I heart Jarkko Ruutu.

"Going where?" I ask unfolding the t-shirt she's handed me and making a face, 'got Crosby...?' emblazoned in white across the black shirt. "And why do I have to wear this?"

"Because you and I have made a mess of things and we have to make it right. Now go put your face on, put on some sexy underwear and let's go. We're going to miss part of the game at this rate."

"Game?" I cough, glancing at the TV, knowing I was about to torture myself by watching it as it is.

"Yes, to the game. There are tickets waiting for us, now scoot, get ready, I hate missing out on the action," she muses, with this funny half grin on her face that tells me she's not just talking about the game.

"I don't know," I sigh, glancing back down at the t-shirt. "I don't know that I want to go back to the way things were," I add quietly.

"Do you miss him?" she asks with her dark eyes full of mischief.

"I do but…I've come to the conclusion that life's too short to fool around and I'm not getting any younger and…," she somehow crosses the floor in three impossibly long strides and grabs me by the shoulders and gives me a hard shake.

"You two need your heads cracking together, do you know that?" She rolls her eyes at me and shakes her head at the same time. "He loves you, you love him and neither of you are going to do anything about it unless I make you, so get dressed, and let's go."

"Loves me?" I whisper breathlessly, looking up into her amused face.

"Yes, loves you, as in can't live without you. So go, get your best undies on and hurry up. Seriously, we're going to miss the entire first period if you don't hurry," she moans, giving me a shove in the direction of the hallway and as I walk towards my bedroom I swear I can hear her laughing.

* * *

"She's not coming," I grumble, staring at the two empty seats behind the goal as we come back out to the bench after the disastrous first period.

"You really thought she would?" Sid asks, leaning on the ledge and gazing down the ice, looking tired and twice his age.

"Yeah I did," I sigh, giving the wall a kick as I take my place on the bench, and looking down the line of Rangers players for that piece of shit Avery. I know the coach said not to take any penalties but for him I'd be glad to make an exception. "At least we're only down by one. "C'mon guys, we can do this. Look sharp," I call out and some of the other guys grumble their assent or knock their sticks against the inside of the wall. I feel my blood begin to boil again, the adrenalin beginning to make my muscles burn, but then I look down at those empty seats and my teeth grind together. Women!

I don't know how I let myself get my hopes up but I honestly did think that leaving her a voice mail explaining that I miss her and won't she at least come to the game and go for drinks or something public afterwards would appeal to her maternal instincts. I thought she would hear that I need some care giving. I don't think I can take one more night of tossing and turning and wishing she was with me. I'm beginning to wish I'd never let her into my head in the first place.

"Shit!" Georges curses loudly as that damn Drury kid banks one in past Fleur.

"God, let us getting fucking warmed up at least," I mutter, glancing back at Therrien, hoping he'll set me loose to get some destruction happening out there, but he gives Malkin a push and his line heads out onto the ice. "Fuck," I hiss, staring out at the ice. I just can't catch a break.

* * *

"Three fucking nothing!" Carmen curses a blue streak as we walk into the arena. Somehow between getting out of the car and walking into the arena we've managed to miss two goals, and unfortunately they're not ours. "Fucking Avery? Of all fucking people. God!" she continues to rage and talk about what a fucking idiot Therrien is as we head to our seats, which, I guess I shouldn't be so surprised, are down at ice level in the corner behind the opposition net.

"Damn, I can see how blue Lundqvist's eyes are from here," I mutter as I settle into the seat beside Carmen, grateful we didn't have to climb over anyone to get to our seats right on the aisle.

"Hey, eyes on the prize girl," Carmen grins, sliding her jacket off and getting up to bang her fists on the plexi-glass as Avery skates by with the puck. "Hey jackass, I hope Ruuts fucks you up!"

"Wow, I think he heard you," I laugh as he glances in our direction as he passes the puck off to Marc Staal.

"I hope he did, the little fucker," she laughs, giving him the finger and sticking her tongue out at the same time, "I hate him," she adds as she slides back into the seat beside me. "Hey, jacket off. I didn't buy you that so you could cover it up."

With a roll of my eyes, I get up, much to the chagrin of the poor people sitting behind us, and begin to peel off my jacket, just as Sid slides to a stop in the corner in a shower of snow, and my heart leaps into my throat.

* * *

"They're here," Sid laughs breathlessly as he climbs over the boards and slides onto the bench.

"They?" I ask, glancing over at him as Therrien gives me a little shove.

"Yeah, Jen and Carmen. You didn't tell me they were both coming," he grins as I fly over the boards and straight into some Rangers player, I don't even bother to look at who, as I head into our end, looking across at Kennedy as he gets the puck from behind the net. I edge down the boards, watching him and keeping an eye on the Rangers D at the same time.

I'm about to call out for him to pass, lifting my stick to crack it on the ice but Jordy takes the puck, barely getting by one of the Rangers at the half boards and then he does toss the puck across to me. Damn, no pass. No lane. No shot.

Fuck. Just bank it off anything. Try to get it to Kennedy. Hard, I toss the puck towards Lundqvist, hoping for a rebound for Kennedy to put in.

It goes in. Fuck yeah! Fucking miracle. I toss my hands in the air and look up into the stands to see Carmen jumping up in the air, a big grin on her face, her long dark hair flying as she claps for me. For me!

I don't even care that Jordy and Kennedy are throwing their arms around me. She's here. She's here _for me_.

Even as I skate back towards the bench to run the gauntlet of offered gloves to smack, I keep glancing back at her. She's here. She finally came.

* * *

"Fuck yeah!" I throw my stick in the air, and accepting another round of attaboys from the guys as we head into the dressing room. At this point, I don't even care that it went off someone in front or not. It went in, a slap shot from the point and it went in. Thank god! It's not just the goal though, now I know how Ruuts felt earlier, as I looked up into the stands to see Jen standing, her hands steepled in front of her mouth, her eyes glittering with tears. She's here, and the faster I get out of these clothes, the faster I can see her, explain, apologize, hold her, touch her.

"They want you in the hall," Ruuts laughs, punching me hard in the arm, hard enough that I wince as I glance towards the door.

"Not tonight," I groan as he tosses his jersey into the pile and quickly adds his under armor to it.

"You'll just have to be patient little buddy," he laughs, unstrapping his brace and leaving it in a heap on the floor as slides out of the remnants of his leggings and heads for the showers. "I'll be having hot monkey love while you're still giving interviews."

"Shut up," I growl, knowing he's probably right, and hoping against hope that she'll stay, she'll wait. She has to. She's here. She has to wait. I have to see her. I have to tell her, once and for all.

"They're waiting," Fleur says apologetically as I pull my ball cap on and roll my eyes, heading for the hall. Just once I'd like to get out of here before everyone else has already left. These are the times I hate being Sidney Fucking Crosby.

* * *

I look down at my hand and a little shiver runs down my spine. I don't know and frankly don't care what it looked like to anyone watching when Jarkko strode out of the dressing room, with his clothes sticking to his skin he was still so wet from the shower (I didn't care if he'd showered either, but I could tell by the spicy scent clinging to his skin that he had) and grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him all the way to his car without so much as a word. I'm actually pretty sure it's he might have bruised something, but I don't care about that either. In fact, with the way he's grinding the gears and making his M class growl at the street, I don't care much about anything but watching him and trying not to actually drool.

The way his hand curls around the stick shift, the way his muscles in his thighs flex and bunch as he jams the gas and the clutch, makes my mouth dry, makes my nipples ache, makes my body quiver in anticipation.

"Are you thirsty?" he asks, pulling a neon plastic bottle of Gatorade towards me as the car slows to a stop at a red light. Mutely, I shake my head, unable to take my eyes off the way his hands caress the steering wheel. "Then why are you smacking your lips like that?" he asks, snapping my attention up to his green eyes, to the half heated, half concerned look in his eyes behind his glasses.

"Hot," I whisper, glancing back down as his hand drops to the gear shift as the light goes back to green and he puts the car into first, and then, halfway through the intersection it's in second and then my entire body shudders as he slams it from third to fourth with hardly any hesitation.

"You like this?" he asks, sounding amused as he jams the gas and sends the Beamer growling into a high speed pass, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he snaps the car back to the other side of the road. "This turns you on?" he adds, grinding the gears almost all the way down as he rounds a corner on an off ramp at a speed it probably shouldn't be taken at, making the tires squeal and the car lean, throwing me against him. "You like this huh?" he repeats, going back up through the gears as he aims the headlights down the straight strip.

"Oh hell yeah," I sigh as he jams the car back up into fifth and the engine screams.

"Then take off your panties," he growls, and I look up from his hand caressing the gear shift to find him looking over at me with a look in his eyes that has me undoing my seatbelt and sliding my skirt up to my hips without so much as a question. He watches me, alternatively glancing out the window at the darkened road as I slide my panties down over my thighs, down past my knees and kick them off onto the mat on the floor. "Are you wet?" he asks, slowing the car for a turn, but still taking it too fast. "Dip your fingers in, show me," he commands, his thighs bunching as he stomps on the brake, sending the car into a skid, pulling it around the corner at the edge of losing control. Sliding my fingers down between my thighs, I shudder as my fingers pass over my own clit and dip into the wet folds, bringing them out glistening with my own juices as he pulls the car up to a stop in front of my own building, the tires squealing a complaint as the car skids to a stop, rubber burning, the brakes shuddering as the car finally comes to a halt. Slamming it into park, he leans over, grabbing my wrist and pulls my hand to his lips, licking them clean and then running his tongue around my fingers again, just to watch me tremble.

"Fuck me," I moan, reaching for his package with my other hand, only to have him block my reach, grabbing my other wrist and shaking his head slowly as his full lips turn up in an evil grin.

"Oh no, you made me wait, you can wait now," he whispers, his voice husky with desire as he pushes my hands back down into my lap.

* * *

I don't know what makes me do it, I've never done anything like it before, but seeing her pupils dilate with need, her full lips parted, her body quivering with desire, I suddenly feel the need to punish her for making me wait, for making me lay awake at night thinking of her, needing her, wanting her. So as she sits, shivering, watching me, I slide my hands down to my lap and unzip my jeans, sliding my hand inside and wrapping it around my erection.

I hear her gasp, and look up to see her eyes trained on my hand, her little pink tongue sweeping out over her bottom lip as she watches me give my dick a little tug. Almost as if she's not aware of it, her hand slips down between her thighs again, and I watch her fingers make slow deliberate circles over her clit as I pull my cock out, sliding my fist up and down it as I watch her hand.

It occurs to me that someone might walk by and see us and that we could both be arrested for this, but I can't stop once she slides her feet up on the dash of the car to get better access, her fingers working furiously on her clit as my fist pumps my cock harder, faster. I watch her eyes flutter shut and her head tilt back as she lets out a little whimper, and I abandon my cock to reach over and slide my hand over hers, pushing her fingers aside as I dip mine inside her, pumping them in and out of her as I feel her muscles clench around them as her entire body shudders with the strength of the orgasm.

"You liked that didn't you?" I whisper in her ear as I slide my tongue down her neck, still massaging her clit as she pants and whimpers.

"Not as much as I like your cock inside of me," she replies hoarsely, her fingers closing around mine, pulling them up and licking her own juices slowly, deliberately from my fingers, making me groan out loud.

"Do you want my cock inside of you?" I whisper, trying to think how to make that work in the tight confines of this sports car.

"Fuck yeah," she sighs, licking her lips before pushing the door open, sliding out of the seat, leaving a pool of her juices on the leather seat and then giving me an amazing view of her wet pussy as she bends to pick up her panties.

Groaning, I stuff my hard dick back into my pants and follow her inside, waiting breathlessly as the elevator door opens and then pushing her up against the wall inside as the doors close behind us. Hitting the red button, I push her skirt up with one hand and loose my erection with the other. Lifting her leg with one hand, I use my other hand to find her hot wet entrance and then shove myself home, moaning out loud as her body convulses around my cock, the heat, the moisture making it almost impossible not to cum right away.

Pulling her hair aside, I bite down on the ivory curve of her shoulder as I push harder, feeling her ass press against me as I shove myself deep inside of her. Reaching around with my other hand, I pinch her erect nipple between my fingers, and her little cry makes me impossibly hard.

I watch her hands spread out on the glass, nothing to hold onto as I slam into her, pressing my cock deep inside of her, over and over, the alarm nowhere near as loud as her cries as her body stiffens, the orgasm making her muscles clamp around me, and still I keep plunging deep inside of her, two weeks or more of frustration making me harder than I ever remember being.

Digging my teeth into her shoulder, I hear her gasp and then whimper. Maybe it's too hard but I can't seem to stop, and she doesn't ask me to as I grab her hips and pull them back into me, pumping her until I start to see stars and her next orgasm grasps me like a vice and pulls me over the edge with her, both of us crying out like some kind of wild animals as I empty myself into her, her name on my lips as lean into her back, whispering her name over and over as my body shakes from the strength of our union.


	18. Chapter 18

C18

When the last of the microphones are withdrawn and I get the chance to stretch my cramping limbs, I look around to see the room empty. Such is my life. The last one to get dressed, the last one to the bus, the last one to go home at night. I don't usually mind. No wait, that's not entirely true. I mind, but I realize it's the price I pay to be me. I just mind _more _tonight, not knowing if she'll be waiting, or if I'll have to make that lonely trip to her door, still not knowing if she'll answer it or not.

Stripping off the last of my under armor as I head for the showers, the last few stragglers head back in, wrapped in towels, laughing and joking amongst themselves and I find myself watching them, wishing I could share that levity tonight. It was a good game, we battled back and won, we stuck together, and hey, even Ruuts scored a goal.

With a half a grin at that thought I turn the water on and lean into the hard spray, turning my face up into it and imagining it washing away all my tension, all the worries, all the negative thoughts in my head. Visualize. That's what I need to do, visualize my goal, and figure out how to get there. It's what I do before I go out on the ice, why should this be any different?

Because she's a woman and by nature a woman is even more unpredictable than Henrik Lundqvist.

I could just tell her that I love her, just come right out and say it. Just like that. Except that's sort of like shooting your load early, not very satisfying to either party.

I could explain the whole thing about Carmen, so that she understands that it was always about her, that she's so tempting that this was my only way of avoiding being lured into her web. Yeah…_that_ sounds romantic.

I should just tell her that I've been a total ass and beg her forgiveness. That would probably, at the very least, be a good start.

One thing I _do _know, the longer I stand here, the less likely it is that she'll still be waiting out there. So with a sigh, and giving up the last of the hot water, I give myself a cursory scrub and rinse, and head back into the room to find my clothes.

* * *

The die-hard puck bunnies are still hanging out behind the barricades, clutching their signs close to their chests and watching the exit doors like hawks, screaming every time the door opens, be it a security guard or janitor, or Max Talbot, who, luckily for me, spent a good deal of time happily flirting with them and keeping their attention off of me. Feeling vulnerable and alone, I clutch the pass that Carmen had shoved into my hand when Jarkko had dragged her away and try to look innocuous, or at the very least, not look the beast directly in the eye.

I've heard their speculation, heard them wondering who I am that I get to hang out at the entrance, standing so near his Land Rover and the threat is clear in their voices. If they could get to me, they would kill me, rip me to shreds, and if they did, there wouldn't be much left of me to find. With every moment that passes, I begin to wonder if it's worth it and even begin to lose focus on why I _am_ here.

Carmen kept repeating to me that Sidney has feelings for me, that he cares, even that he loves me, andit's that mantra that I cling to now as the evening stretches into night. The part of me that's been playing the part of the sex kitten wants to run, wants to hail a cab and get the hell out of here before I embarrass myself and him but the part of me that wants to believe stays put, glancing at the door, wondering if it might, please, be true.

I don't know when it changed, my intention, if I ever had a real intention in the first place. I don't know how I got from merely pleased at some real male attention to longing for his touch, for his cocky smile, for the feel of him, the smell of him, the sound of his voice. I don't know when it changed, I just know, even as the time drags and I begin to lose hope, that I love him, truly, madly and desperately.

I'm ruminating on my own feelings, my thoughts completely somewhere else when the door opens and the screams reach a fever pitch. His name is squealed at high c, making my skin crawl, but it serves to snap my attention up to meet his as he walks through the door, his unruly dark curls stuffed under a knit cap, his pea coat slung over his wide shoulder, his full lips set in a thin line as his dark gaze sweeps the girls leaning against the barricades waving and screaming for his attention.

"Sid?" I call, my voice sounding small as a tidal wave of emotions make my throat feel tight and I'm sure it won't be enough to be heard over their shrieks but his head swivels and his milk chocolate gaze meets mine, and I shudder to see the determination in his gaze as he closes the gap between us in a few purposeful strides.

If I was an opposition goaltender, I would imagine that the look on his face would worry me. As it is, the sheer focus of his gaze, the resolve in the set of his strong jaw makes me take a step back, except there's no where to go, not unless I want to put myself within arms reach of those girls, and at this point I'm more willing to take my chances with an angry Sidney than I am with that pack of hyenas.

I'm so busy backing away that it barely registers that he's dropped his jacket at his feet, or that the girls behind the barricades have gone eerily silent. All I can think about is his powerful stride, the way his suit pants pull against his thick muscular thighs, that his shirt seems too big except where his biceps pull at the thin fabric, and the steely look in his eyes. The next thing I know he's there, his hand sliding around to the small of my back, pulling me hard against him, and without a single word, his soft lips cover mine in a kiss both soft and urgent as his fingers slide into my hair, tilting my head to gain better access as his lips force mine apart, his tongue curling around mine.

Slowly, gently, he withdraws, but only enough so that his gaze can pierce mine, his lips brushing softly over mine as he kneads the nape of my neck.

"I miss you," he whispers, his brown eyes so serious, the little old man inside of him gazing out at me through his young face. "I need you Jen." All I can do is nod mutely, my voice, my breath, taken away by his forcefulness, by the press of chest against mine, by the steel of his grip.

* * *

Her dark eyes are round with shock, but she doesn't pull away as I kiss her, in front of God and everyone. Right now I don't care who sees us, don't care if I read about this tomorrow in the newspaper, I don't care if this makes the news, don't care about all the internet gossip that this will cause and I don't care if my agent calls screaming blue murder. Her body molds to mine and it feels like it belongs there, like it should always be there, and I don't want to let her go.

"I miss you," I whisper to her. They're not the words I'd planned, but then I think not here, not now, not in front of those girls. Now is not the right moment for those words, even though they're on the tip of my tongue to say. Instead I add, "I need you Jen," and try and let her see all that I'm feeling in my eyes as I hold her to me, wishing we were alone so this didn't feel so public, so she didn't look so frightened as she glances towards the girls now seething and hissing as they watch me pull her deeper into the shadows.

"Sid…they can still see us," she warns, ducking her head to the side and giving me a little shove, not enough to push me away, just a warning jab to the solar plexus.

"I don't care," I reply, cupping her cheek in my hand and gazing down into those dark eyes, feeling a grin begin to pull at my cheeks. "Right now I'd kiss you at center ice on Hockey Night in Canada in front of Don Cherry, that's how much I don't care who sees," I explain, touching my lips to hers' as she smiles nervously up at me.

"But you're not the one who's going to be posted on at least a hundred boards by midnight. '_Wanted. Dead or alive_'," she emphasizes with a roll of her eyes, "it's not your hair they'll be tearing out by the roots."

"Oh I don't know about that," I shudder, thinking of one or two close calls I've been in with Max or Army back when we thought it was cool to pick up a couple of those chicks to take home. "Okay, we'll go somewhere else, somewhere more…private, but I just want you to know, this is how much I care," I add, pressing my lips firmly over hers' until I feel her respond, her body pressing to mine, her lips parting for just the quickest flick of her pointed little tongue, and then she pulls back and eyes my Land Rover before turning her gaze playfully back to mine.

"It's not like we have to go far," she whispers, nipping at my bottom lip and batting her eyelashes, bringing my body hard and taught against hers with a hard squeeze from her hand on my ass. "I seem to remember a side street, not far from here…," she adds with tilt of her head and a mischievous little smile.

"Not that I don't want to," I sigh, stating the obvious as she chuckles up at me, rolling her dark eyes, "but tonight…tonight I have something else in mind, you'll just have to trust me." I add, sliding my hand down over hers' and leaning over to pick up my coat to hold in front of me before leading her past the accusing stares and to the safety, and privacy of my SUV, so I can put the rest of my plan for tonight into motion.

* * *

It must be the best view in the city from this hotel room, but as the lights of Pittsburgh glitter in front of me, I know that I'm not really taking in the view for its own sake. Right now I'm really just displaying classic avoidance behavior.

I left Sidney to deal with the front desk, keeping well out of sight of anyone who could leak my description, therefore furthering the stories I'm sure are even now making their way onto the internet about Sidney kissing some girl outside of the arena. And I leave him now to deal with the bell boy, keeping just out of sight and my back to the door, and I can't help but think it would always be like this, if I stay with him, I'll always be trying to stay out of sight, out of the media glare that he lives in.

And yet, I'm still here, and when his arm slides around my waist and his lips brush along my neck, I close my eyes to savor the feel of him solid and strong behind me, and I don't want to dwell on the negatives, not even how he knew about this room, or how the staff all seem to know him….

"Better?" he asks, his voice muffled against my hair as he leans in to press his lips the curve of my neck.

"Better?" I ask, leaning back into him, and inhaling the strong musky scent of his skin, the clean honey smell of his hair as it brushes against my cheek.

"Safer, more private," he offers, his hand brushing my hair aside as he nibbles his way down my shoulder as far as he can push the neck of the t-shirt.

"We could have just gone to mine," I sigh, that part of me that still wants to argue, that still wants to punish him, peeking out and lobbing a grenade just because.

"True but I want tonight to be different," he whispers, turning me slowly to face him and lifting my chin in his fingers until my gaze meets his. "I want tonight to be special," he adds, his gaze serious as it searches mine. "This is the nicest room in the city, and before you even think it, no, I've never been here with anyone else. A couple of the other guys have booked it for anniversaries or whatever," he adds, waiting for my reaction and I'm still not a hundred percent sure what he's hinting around at so I keep quiet, watching, waiting because I don't want to be wrong, don't want to get ahead of myself. I don't want to be the one who puts her neck out and gets humiliated. "You're still mad."

"No," I shrug, and realize immediately that I'm sending out mixed signals. "I mean, well, this isn't exactly what we agreed to," I wince when I say it, because it isn't what I want to say, not even what's in my mind to say, but I just don't seem able to stop picking at the wound.

"I think we both know that we're way beyond our agreement by now Jen." He lets out an aggravated sigh as I turn my gaze to the floor.

"If it's just sympathy about the accident…," I add, needing the reassurance of hearing him say that it's not, which he gives with an eye roll and a tilt of the head that I already know means 'are you fucking serious?' from teasing him too long and trying to tie him to the bed post one to many times.

"Just say your still fucking mad at me Jen," he sighs, and shakes his head, "or at least let me explain about…."

"No it's not that!" I insist and then with a shoulder roll I admit that it's still there in the back of my mind. "Okay, maybe, I mean, I don't know…I mean, Carmen explained that…that the stuff with you and her was just…," my chest gets tight and my eyes begin to burn as I think about her, in his arms. "I know we're not a couple but…," I blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay but when he runs the back of his hand down my cheek, one salty tear escapes and runs over his finger. He looks down at it and then back up at me and for just a moment, he looks hurt, and then just like he can on the ice, he shuts the emotion down with a deep breath.

"I _want_ us to be official, that's what I keep trying to tell you," he explains quietly, patiently, like he's speaking to a petulant child and I suppose that's exactly the way I've been behaving. "And I guess I can't expect that your feelings have changed too…," his voice trails off as his gaze searches mine, "but I've come to realize that I've fallen in love with you sometime in the last month."

I feel my heart thrust itself up into my throat as he runs the pad of his thumb along my cheekbone, the tenderness in his eyes making it hard for me to breathe, but then it's always been like that with him.

"I love you too," I whisper, leaning into his hand, but dropping my gaze from his, afraid to let him see exactly _how_ much.

"I'm glad," he whispers as he tilts my chin up and touches his lips briefly to mine, "because I want things to be different between us. I want to make love to you tonight, I want tonight to be incomparable."

This time when he kisses me, it's soft and sweet, his soft pink lips holding mine until we need to come up for air, and then his arms slide around to the small of my back, pulling my hips inline with his as he deepens the kiss, reaching for my tongue with his.

I may have kissed him before, more than a few times, but there has never been one moment, during any of those fiery and passionate nights that I've let myself feel…this. Even after the accident, when he seemed both tender and caring, I never let myself believe that what I felt was real. But now, as he holds me close, as his lips press gently against mine, I let myself drown in the feelings that well up inside of me, let them overflow until my skin tingles with all the new sensations that I'm allowing myself to feel for the first time.

From the very first we've never made more than the most cursory attempt at fore-play, never spent time exploring, we've always just given into the heat, the passion, the need to touch, to consummate the fire between us. This time it's entirely different, it's like we have all the time in the world and everything is brand new. His hands even shake as he slides the t-shirt over my head and then runs his fingers over the half moons my breasts make from my demi-cup bra.

I watch his fingers running lightly over my skin and fight the urge to grab his hands and shove them into my bra, to relieve the ache in my nipples. Instead, I shiver and sigh and offer him my mouth, enjoying the soft press of his full pink lips even more than usual. Even so, it's almost painful by the time he lifts my breasts free of their confines, and I hear myself groaning out loud as he bends to suckle first one, then the other as I run my fingers through his dark waves, holding him to me, letting my head loll back as jolts of electricity run through my entire body.

He might not be the biggest player, but when he picks me up in his arms and drops me onto the bed, he's the strongest man I know, and I feel weak and feminine beneath him, and I want to be crushed by him, want to feel his muscles flex against my skin. He makes me feel like a woman, and better than that, once he's stripped me bare and his melted chocolate gaze sweeps the length of my body, he lets me know that all he sees is a woman, and for the first time, I'm sure that gaze also says he sees a woman he loves.

* * *

I may have tasted her before, may have enjoyed her charms on more than a few nights, but her body has never felt this relaxed, this languid, or this sexy. Not that she's never been sexy before, because that would be a damn lie. She's always seemed sexy to me. Yet as she wraps her legs around my hips and guides my engorged cock into her velvety soft heated tunnel, she looks sexier than ever but she's never looked quite this beautiful to me either.

And it's not that I've never had the distinct pleasure of causing her to suck in her breath through her teeth as I deliberately take all the time in the world to slowly screw myself into her, it's just that I've never paused to watch her do it, never took the time to push this slowly, to truly enjoy the way her body fits tightly around mine. I remind myself that there will be other nights, plenty of nights in the future, to enjoy her charms more athletically, to be together the way we have been before, but tonight is the first time, our first time, to make love, and I want more than anything, to make it last all night.

I wanted there to be rose petals and candle light, but then, that was a week ago, and the rose petals dried up and went stiff and the candles are still back in the SUV. Still, the mood lighting in the room and the deep red velvet and satin bedspread set off her pearlescent skin, and her red lips call my name, and I forget all about the accoutrements that are missing, and all I see is her, all I feel is her, and I think to myself that I could feel like this, just like this, forever.

But then her back bows and her nails dig into my shoulders and her muscles clench around my dick and there's no more pausing to enjoy the view, no more taking my time and making sure I feel every inch inside of her, because she's sliding quickly over the edge and isn't happy to go alone. So decorum and romance be damned. I shove it as deep inside of her as I can go, grabbing a handful of hip in each hand, pulling her to me and using her body as leverage at the same time as I slam into her, and with each thrust I get closer and closer to losing consciousness completely as the edges of my vision begin to dim as all the blood rushes from my head to my cock and then she digs those stiletto heels into my ass and I'm done. I can't think. All I can do is feel, and all I feel is her body arching against mine, her nails digging deep in my back, her pussy clenching around my dick harder than ever before, and my dick pouring my cum deep inside of her, and the last thing I hear is her screaming my name.


	19. Chapter 19

C19

"Where have you been?" he moans into my neck as we slide apart from one another, and I have to grip the hand rail to stop from sliding all the way down onto the floor. After a few orgasms my legs are always a little wobbly but after that? Well, limp noodles hardly begins to describe the boneless feel of my entire body, but you won't hear me complaining, in fact, I can't quite stop grinning as I watch him try to straighten out his clothes which are in a general disarray, with the front of his jeans wet with a slick combination of my juices and his.

"Studying," I point out. "Student, remember? It's what I do," I chuckle as he struggles with the buttons on his jeans and I can't help but think he might be feeling a little weak kneed himself. "Besides, I thought there was no sex during playoffs, that you had to save up all your energy for pissing Jagr off, which, by the way, you look incredibly sexy doing," I add, reaching out to grab a handful of his shirt to pull him close, laying a long slow kiss on his soft lips.

"I didn't tell you that," he grumbles, pulling away from me long enough to press the red emergency button again, making the elevator car lurch to life and sending it groaning upwards. "I never would have said that," he adds, turning back to press me against the rear wall of the car, surrounding me with his body, like a threat, except it only serves to send a shiver of anticipation down my spine. I can only hope he can keep up with me, because I know damn well I'm not done with him yet.

I open my mouth to tell him just that, but the elevator doors slide open, revealing my neighbor and her snorty little dog looking entirely disgusted at us as I lead him out of the elevator and across the hall, laughing the entire way.

Digging in my purse, after a couple tries, I pull out my key and push it into the lock on the fourth try. I guess my knees aren't the only thing feeling weak. I turn to say something witty to him, but any sign of amusement is gone from his face, and as soon as the door opens, he pushes me inside, forcibly shoving me ahead of him, sending me stumbling forward and almost onto my knees as he slams the door shut behind us, snapping the dead bolt into place. I look over at him, unamused, but I don't get the chance to ask him what the hell he thinks he's doing, as he merely takes a step forward, sweeping me up off of my feet and into his arms, and carries me down the hall and drops me onto my bed, for a change.

"I may not be good with words," he begins, kneeling on the edge of the bed and looming over me, looking sexy as hell with his bulging muscles straining against his shirt, his thick neck flexing as he clenches his jaw making the dark hairs of his beard bristle, and another shiver runs down my spine. The sense memory of that beard rubbing against my cheek, rasping against my neck, making me wonder what it will feel like against the newly waxed soft skin between my thighs…. "Damn't woman, will you listen? Stop looking at me like…like that," he growls, his tongue whetting his full lips as he looks down at me leaning back on my elbows as I take in the spectacular view.

"If you'd wanted to talk," I grin up at him, licking my own lips as his pecs flex against his shirt, "you should have done that before you made me cum four times, or was it five?" I bite down on my bottom lip and push myself further across the bed, making my skirt ride up so that he's got a good view of what I'd much prefer he be paying attention to right now.

"Damn't Carmen," he growls, ripping his shirt open and tossing it onto the floor, as if he knows that seeing his bare chest is just as much a distraction as seeing my bare pussy. "You've always looked at me like that," he inclines his chin in my general direction and I literally have to force myself to look up into his green eyes. Huh, I guess now I do know how all those men have felt around me, huh, that's annoying. "Even the first time we met, you looked at me like that then too, like I'm some nice steak or something," he grumbles, and I can't help but grin at his not so perfect grasp of the English language.

"It's 'piece of meat' darling, and maybe I do, but it's only because I like the view from here," I grin, letting my eyes roam over his perfectly formed chest, chiseled yes but not exactly cut, the perfect balance of muscle and soft edges that makes my entire body feel warm, especially when my gaze begins to follow that goody trail downwards.

"Well maybe back then I was too shy to believe you actually meant something by looking at me like that," he begins, blinking rapidly and actually turning a little pink at the tips of his ears. "Maybe I'd never had a girl look at me like they look at Trevor Linden or Sidney but…well now that I've been in Pittsburgh a little while, maybe some of it _is_ sloppy seconds or Sidney's cast offs, but…I can get women here you know, they want a piece of this," he runs his hand over his chest and my entire body shudders with raw need as my eyes follow the progress of his fingers over his perfectly formed pecs and down to the top of his six pack.

"You won't hear me arguing," I sigh, reaching up for him, wanting him to let me run my fingers over his warm skin.

"I don't just want…what I'm trying to say is if I just wanted someone to fuck, I could have that, do you understand me Carmen?" he growls, leaning over and grabbing my wrists and forcing them back onto the bed, holding me hostage, and yes, that just makes me hotter as his mouth is so near mine and I just want to bite his soft lips and…. "Carmen, can you even hear me?"

"I can, I just wish you'd stop talking," I offer, biting on my own lip because his aren't quite near enough.

"I need you to tell me," he snaps, his eyes taking on that bulging angry look he gets around players he really doesn't like. "Tell me I'm not just some stupid piece of meat to you. Tell me I'm…_more_."

* * *

My body wants to give in to the come hither stare that she's giving me, but my mind is holding me back, waiting for the words I need to hear. There may be times I don't mind being treated like a side of beef, god knows I'm no angel, but with Carmen it's different. I want to know her, I want things to be different with her, and I need to know she feels the same. If she doesn't…I don't know what I'm going to do.

I tell myself not to give in to the lure of her long legs leading up to heaven, but it seems to take just about as much will power not to look as it does not to hit Jagr when he talks about Niina, and I hate him about as much as I love Carmen.

"Do you know what I see when I look at you?" her voice slips up into my ears like honey as she purrs like a kitten, pulling me down onto the bed beside her until she can curl her body temptingly around mine. I have to close my eyes and clench my teeth to stop from kissing her full lips so near mine, and the she starts running her fingertips down my chest and I no matter how hard I try, I can't disguise the shudder of need her touch draws from me. "Do you know what I see when I think about us?" she humms into my neck, making everything south of the equator even harder than it already was. "I see me watching you cart around our rug rats, teaching them to skate and telling them not to listen to Uncle Tuomo," she whispers, her fingers making slow deliberate circles around my belly button, and I have to clench my teeth even harder not to groan out loud. "I see you and me running around naked in the snow after a nice long lazy afternoon in the sauna making more babies," she continues and I can see the vision in my head and it so doesn't help my existing situation.

"Stop," I growl, rolling over and pinning her to the bed, pushing her hands back over her head and holding them there so she can't tease me anymore, not that the feel of her full high breasts isn't enough to make any man weak. "Now you're just telling me what I want to hear so you can use me," I snarl at her and she just looks up at me with those hooded bedroom eyes of hers' and smiles.

"Who says it's what you want to hear, do you think I get this wet for just anyone," she grins, arching her body up to press it against me, and this time I can't stop the moan from escaping my lips. "You're the only man who makes me turn into a sex maniac," she continues, pressing up against me and curling her long shapely legs around me, pulling me against her. "Take me Jarkko," she whispers, her breath hot in my ear as she pulls me down onto her, "make me yours. I belong to you, heart and soul."

My eyes pop open at the last words, and I look down into her face, her features relaxed, her round cheeks pink, her eyes twinkling, her lips curled up into a cat that got the canary smile. I know that smile, I've been told that I have one just like it, and it usually means trouble.

"Do you mean it?" I whisper, giving in and brushing my lips over hers'.

"Don't get all sappy on me Ruutu," she chuckles, wrapping her other leg around me and digging her heel into the soft tissue just under my ass. "I like it when you're angry at me. It feels so good when you're mad," she adds with a grin.

"Tell me," I growl, rubbing my hard cock against her, smiling when she winces at the feel of the hard denim against her soft parts. "Tell me or you won't get this," I add, enjoying watching her chew on her bottom lip as she tries not to cry out.

"Tell you what?" she whimpers, trying to push up against the iron grip I have on her arms.

"Tell me Carmen, I want to hear it," I growl, pushing her hands back down, and using the pressure of my body against hers' to push her thighs further apart.

"I already did," she whimpers, her voice small as she pouts, her bottom lip sticking out as she goes for the sympathy vote.

"Say the words Carmen," I insist, nipping at that full bottom lip, biting it maybe a little too hard as she lets out a satisfying squeak. She narrows her eyes at me and shakes her head, and then looks up at me defiantly. My answer is to push up away from her, and turn, like I'm going to leave.

"I love you Jarkko Ruutu, I love you okay? I love you and I want to have your babies," she cries, scrambling across the bed to grab at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing her lips to my shoulder.

"God, why is it so fucking hard for you to say?" I sigh, leaning back into her as she lays her forehead against my shoulder.

"The same reason you find it so fucking hard to accept that I do," she grumbles, "I've been fucked over so many times, not to mention my parents…," her voice falls away and just as I'm about to reach back to reassure her, she shakes it off and gives me a hard hug. "So you win, I admit it, I love you."

"Are you sure about that?" I ask, hoping she can't see the triumphant look on my face.

"Yes, so sure," she cries, clinging tightly, like she has to hold me where I am not that I want to go anywhere, but there is just one more thing I need to get clear between us.

"You're not going to go back to Sidney? I mean, maybe the sex was…."

"Awful. It was awful, I swear, he didn't want me and I didn't' want him, I want you, I swear. Only you," her voice trails away as I turn my head to look at her out of the corner of my eye and I guess that's enough for her to see that I'm playing and it makes her curse out loud.

"Damn you! You on of a bitch," she snaps, letting go of my neck and crawling up the bed, grabbing a pillow to hug in front of her and glare at me over it. "I didn't even know that you knew," she adds, gnawing at her lip and watching me like a tiger behind the cage, like she's not sure if I mean her harm or not.

"He told me, and Carmen," I push everything I've been feeling about knowing they were together down and lock it away from this moment, just like I've been doing since between the second and third periods. I don't want to ruin this, and I know it wouldn't take much, at least that's what my track record tells me. He and I will talk later, then wasn't the time, and maybe that's why he chose it, I don't know, but now isn't the time to deal with that. "I swear, it doesn't matter, and for the record, he feels the same, and I can't imagine why unless it's because you love me and I love you and that's why it's so fucking good when we're together," I add, launching myself across the bed and grabbing her and the pillow at the same time. I wrestle the pillow out of her arms and toss it onto the floor while sliding my other hand up between her thighs to watch her suck in a long breath through her teeth. "Like your body was made for my pleasure," I continue, sliding my fingers inside of her and rubbing her clit in deliberately slow circles as I undo my jeans with my other hand. "Like your pussy was made to fit me," I add as I wrestle my jeans down enough to slip my erection into her, and then I can't think anymore. The heat, the wetness, the tightness, it's too good, it feels too damn good.

* * *

"When are we having the babies?" he whispers as he pulls my body into his, as he wraps his big meaty arms around me and pulls the sheet up to our chins as our bodies begin to relax after what seems like hours of sweaty love making.

"Is that all you can think about?" I yawn, snuggling into him and leaning my cheek against his shoulder as I stroke my hand down his chest.

"Right now? Mmmm that and how I'm going to make Jagr pay," he mumbles into my hair, his voice taking on that tired sound as his body warms under the covers. "Maybe scoring again," he adds, and I can hear the grin in his voice.

"Again?" I chuckle, letting my hand wander down the goody trail. "I thought you said you were tired."

"I am," he moans, reaching down to still my hand. "There's some truth to that no sex it's playoffs," he mumbles, pulling my hand back up to the center of his chest. "Leave me with some strength left, please," he adds with a soft kiss to my temple.

"Oh well, if you can't handle it," I giggle, wiggling my ass against him, and he moans as his body twitches and comes awake.

"Carmen, please," he moans, pressing his half hard cock against the small of my back. "I have to sleep sometime."

"Well I guess I could always call Sidney," I giggle, getting exactly the reaction I thought I would get, as he pushes me down into the mattress and growls into my neck, trying to shove his cock into me.

"No one else gets to touch this," he snarls, shoving him self against me, and biting at my shoulder, almost as if in frustration. "No one, mine, mine," he hisses as he pins me to the bed. I shiver as he pushes his way inside, but it's a good kind of shiver, and as I wrap my arms around his neck, I offer him my lips and my body and he looks down at me with a dark look in his green eyes, like he's daring me to say otherwise.

"Yours," I reply quietly, pushing up against him and shuddering as his body replies in kind. "All yours. I don't want anyone else, not ever, I promise," I add, watching the softening in his gaze as he gathers me close, holding me tightly as we make love slowly, gently, carefully. "I love you Jarkko, only you, I promise. I'm not those other girls, I won't lie and I won't leave. I love you, just you," I repeat, letting him see in my eyes that I mean every word I say, and the love I see in his eyes as I do, is worth more than gold to me as he pulls me even closer and places a gentle kiss on my lips.

"I'll make you happy, I promise Carmen, I will. I love you," he whispers, and I know that he means every word.


	20. Chapter 20

C20

"I hate this," she mumbles, her eyes hooded with sleep as she lays in the circle of my arms gazing up at me. "It's softer than I thought, but I still hate it."

"Ummm, you've never complained before," I reply, mocking shock as she giggles and shakes her head at me. "I was tired that last time. You finally tired me out, you can't complain about that."

"This!" she snorts, running the pad of her index finger along my top lip and sighing. "I don't like it. Couldn't you just shave like Geno?"

"I can't shave," I chuckle, pulling her hand away and kissing the palm of it instead before placing it back on my chest where it was before. "Admittedly, I trimmed a bit of it. It's so uneven," I grumble, reaching up to run my hand along the itchy parts of my chin, which causes her to make a yuck face and wrinkle her nose. "It's tradition, _playoff _tradition, I can't shave it."

"Well I hope you take the Rangers in four then," she sighs, leaning her chin on the back of her hand and gazing up at my pathetic excuse for a playoff beard and squinting, like she's trying to imagine me without it. Or maybe she's picturing me with a good thick growth like Jordy's or Ruutu's.

"If we do, we'll just be playing Montreal or Philly sooner, and I'll still be growing it," I point out which makes her give a disgusted little shiver.

"Ew, perish the thought. Maybe you can start a new play off tradition and shave it for a win instead?" she asks hopefully which only makes me laugh and shake my head at her. With a sigh, she rolls onto her back and stares up at the ceiling for a long while before finally turning to look at me. "Do you think it makes you look older? Is that it? You hope if you grow it really ZZ top style that they'll stop treating you like a kid?" She reaches back up again and runs her finger along my chin, and wrinkles her nose when I rub my beard into her hand.

"No, I know they'll all make fun of me. Even Fleur, and he can't do any better," I reply thoughtfully stroking my chin, feeling the whiskers curl under my fingers.

"I don't mean your team mates, I mean Don Cherry, or Mario, or…or your dad," she says quietly, rolling back onto her side and cuddling into my arms, like that's going to take the sting out of what she's just said.

"I forget sometimes that I've told you things already." Private things, things I haven't told anyone else. "How come you never treated me like a kid?" I ask, turning the tables back on her.

"How come you treated me like a woman?" she replies playfully, sliding her hand down over my hip to give my ass a hard slap.

"Because you're all woman," I growl, giving her a little tug and pulling her over me, until she's straddling my hips and gazing down at me with that sexy flirtatious little smile of hers' that first got my heart racing back at that fundraiser that seems like years ago now. "Anyone that can't see that must be blind."

"Touché," she grins, sliding her hand down between us to stroke me slowly, pulling my stiff cock up against her belly while she leans forward to tweak my nipple between her other fingers. "You're all the man I need," she whispers, sliding my now very erect cock inside of her and rolling her eyes back in her head as she slides down over me until our bodies meet again, her sweet soft center entirely engulfing me and it feels like heaven, feels like home.

* * *

I don't like it. I like soft clean skin. I don't like the rough scratching feel of the wiry whiskers on his cheek and chin. But looking down at him now, I can see the roguish charm of the playoff beard and I can't help but think the inner pirate in him is showing itself, the one that makes him who he is to me, not the boy he still is to the outside world, but the man he is to me in the private moments we share.

As his hands slide up to my hips and we begin to move together, I let my gaze wander over his athletic body as it arches and flexes beneath me, noticing how hard and chiseled it's become, how gaunt his cheeks are as the softness that is usually present around the edges melts away as the intensity of the playoffs ramps up.

He is poetry carved in flesh. How the Greeks would have worshipped him! He would have been carved in marble, so perfect is his form. He is the ancient ideal athlete, his body made to move, to run, to compete, and, or course, to love. He is Eros, his soft pink lips moving under mine as we roll together amongst the pillows and sheets, his thick dark hair curling around my fingers as I run my hands through it, knowing his body by brail, where to touch to make him gasp, where to stroke to make him groan. He is Achilles, his muscles stretching and flexing as he moves over me, straining to take me to the edge of reason, always competing, needing to win. He is Ares, sweat beading on his brow as he holds himself in check, each movement necessary, calculated to bring about pain and pleasure, to have dominion over me, to win at all costs. He is Morpheus, ruler of my every fantasy, my every dream. He is Apollo, most beautiful among men and gods, god of light, his smile the sun of my world.

Tears spring to my eyes as the orgasm drags me under, as the power of these new and frightening feelings engulf me and overpower me. I turn my head, ripping my gaze away from his curious one, draping my arms over my eyes and turning away, giving into the sobs that erupt from my core. I feel his body press against my back, his arms wrap around me as he pulls me close, his lips gently touching the back of my neck as he whispers soft words that I only realize now that I've wanted to hear for so long but never dared to let myself think about. Even now, it's almost too overwhelming to hear them.

"Jen…?" I feel his chin dig into my shoulder as he pulls me closer, the length of his body pressed against me, making me feel so wanted, so safe, and yet….

"Did you tell _her _you loved her?" I ask, my voice barely above a squeak as I push it through the tightening in my chest.

"Her who?" he asks quietly, resting his cheek against mine, warm and yes, itchy from that damn beard.

"Carmen," I sigh, squeezing my eyes shut against the visuals that spring to life in my mind of her in his arms, her looking up blissfully into his eyes. No not blissful. She never said that, that's the little green monster in me. That's not fair to her. It's my imagination creating those images.

"No," he replies quietly, crawling over me when I won't turn to face him. "No," he repeats as he cups my chin in his hand, holding my gaze when I try to look away. "I don't think I've _ever_ said that to any woman before. Well, except for my mother and that doesn't count," he adds with that boyish smile of his that makes my heart skip a beat.

"Never?" I ask, blinking rapidly to try and stem the flow of tears as he smiles at me. It seems unfair to be feeling this upset with that toothy grin gazing back at me.

"Never," he repeats with a sigh and a small shake of his head. "I'm not like Jordy or Max, I would never say things I don't mean like that just to get some action."

"You don't have to," I whisper, dropping my eyes because I can't look at him and say this. "Girls throw themselves at you."

_"Girls_," he reiterates, lifting my chin and giving it just enough of a squeeze that I open my eyes to meet his gaze. "_Girls_, not women. If you think for one minute I have any interest in those girls that stand around outside the rink…," he shakes his head and sighs again and then just makes a derisive sound as he shrugs.

"I don't know Sidney, that's just it. I…we've…," I feel the tears threatening to fall again and I have to reach up and rub my eyes. "I don't know what you do or don't do, who you're with…I've never felt like I had a right to ask but…now I have all these feelings and…and I'm scared Sidney," I whisper, feeling his arms go around my shoulders, his fingers sliding up into my hair as he pulls me into his arms.

"I wish I could say you have nothing to worry about. I wish I could tell you that it will all be fine but…I know it won't Jen. That's part of why…the real reason the thing with Carmen happened was that I couldn't imagine subjecting you to all the attention and gossip and bullshit that I know will happen," he whispers, stroking my back with one hand while his breath lifts my hair from my temples. "But I love you and I want to make it work. I'll protect you any way I can Jen, I promise. And I promise you, I don't want anyone else but you." He lifts my chin again, searching my gaze with his serious one. "Once I make my mind up on something, or _someone_, that's it." The conviction in his eyes makes my heart push against my chest, like it wants to get out and lay itself at his feet. I know what that feels like.

"I guess I'm just feeling…overwhelmed," I admit, searching his eyes for understanding and seeing that boyish smile tug at his full lips, I can't help but smile back at him.

"But it feels right, don't you think?" he asks, the earnestness in his face making me smile. "It feels so right being with you," he whispers, leaning in and pressing his lips against mine in a kiss that curls my toes and makes my entire body hum. "I don't know how, but I'll make this work because I love you Jen. I'm _in _love with you."

The glimmer in his eyes, the conviction in his voice, the tenderness in his touch makes my soul reach for his, and when his lips press over mine, I think I hear angels sing.

* * *

Having kissed him goodnight, or rather, good morning, and sent him off to creep into his rooms at Mario's or slink into Max or Fleur's, I turn and head into my home, locking the door behind me and leaning against it, closing my eyes and at last letting out the squeal that I've been holding inside all night.

He loves me.

Sidney Crosby loves _me_.

It sounds strange. It sounds impossible. But the tingle I still feel in my lips from his parting kiss, from all of his kisses tonight, tell me it's possible. The ache in my muscles, the deep satisfying ache between my thighs, tells me he wants me. The look in his eyes when he held me, the way his body curled around mine, and the way he said those words tells me that it's a fact.

He loves me; he really, _really _loves me.

Giving myself a hard pinch, I try and wake myself up from a dream I've had one too many times. I've always tried to wake myself when I started to dream about him having feelings for me. There have been nights I've woken up and had to stay up to stop myself from slipping back into that dream. I've never dared believe it.

Except that now I know it's true. He loves me and goddess help me, I love him too.

Unfortunately I don't have time to stand here and giggle, like some kind of schoolgirl, basking in the afterglow of a night I hope to never forget. I have maybe three hours to get cleaned up and get some sleep before I go back to work.

Work. The station house. I haven't been back since…since….

Clenching my teeth and closing my eyes I dismiss the flashbacks and bring back to mind the feel of his soft pink lips and the panic that had begun to rise, drains away again.

Well, as least I know he's good for something, I chuckle to myself as I head for the warmth of my bed. I don't even mind that I'll be sleeping alone. I'm too tired to think about anything else right now.

He loves me. Sidney Crosby loves me.

It's just too weird. I giggle as I kick off my shoes, set the alarm and lay down on my bed. It just sounds too much like a t-shirt or something. But as I lay back on my bed and stare at the ceiling, I can sense him, can smell him still, can feel his lips on mine and I just grin as I close my eyes and hope to catch some z's.

He _does_ love me. He really does.


	21. Chapter 21

C21

"You're beginning to scare me mon ami," Georges chuckles, turning to skate backwards, watching me carefully. "Not that I'm not happy for you, comme ca? But this…it's a bit disturbing non?" He glances at Talbie for support and they both just snort and start laughing. Let them laugh. We're winning and I've had Carmen in my bed for over a week now. What could possibly get me down?

"So did you say your mom was coming in to see you?" Gonch asks, pulling up beside me as we hit the circle to stretch.

"Yeah, for mother's day. I'm picking her up after practice. She's been visiting Tuomo up at the Worlds," I reply smiling to myself. I'd left Carmen in a panic, trying to finish an assignment before she could go out shopping to pick out something to wear to meet my mom. Women, I don't know what they get so worked up about.

The minute Tuomo mentioned I was seeing someone mom was on the phone saying she was going to come down to see me. Not that I mind. I love having her visit. I just don't really have time for this right now. Doesn't _anyone _realize it's the damn playoffs?

"So, it's serious then, you and la jolie etudiante?" Georges grins, chuckling as he snaps a wrister in Fleur's direction before joining Gonch and I on the ice. I notice that Fleur doesn't so much as flinch, that's how often he scores from this far out. "Did you see that? Muffin!"

"It could be," I hedge, shrugging.

"Oh c'mon mon ami, est-ce l'amour? Puis j'entendre des cloches de mariage?"

"God, I've hung out with you too long when I know what all that frog mumbo jumbo means," I grumble, hoping he'll accept that as an answer.

"No, no little buddy, you don't get off that easy. C'mon, is it love or what?" Georges gives me a friendly shove, but I just shake my head at him.

"Oh c'mon Ruuts, do I still have a chance huh? You can tell Carmen I'm still available," Max laughs, ducking as I swing for his head. "Oh c'mon, I'm way more handsome than you. C'mon man, I'd share with you," he complains, staying well out of my reach.

"What is it with you Frogs? When did you all get so interested in my love life anyway?" I sigh, feeling my cheeks begin to turn pink as they all turn to look at me.

"Oooh Ruuts is in looooove," Georges announces, his voice booming in the empty arena.

"Shut up man," I sigh, but I can feel the grin on my face all the same.

"Good for you man, seriously," Gonch shakes his head at the boys as they all laugh at me. "Maybe some of these young guns will take a lesson from you. It's not all about one night stands, am I right?"

"Oh come on, he's had his fair share hey mon ami? We've been on the prowl a night or two am I right? Tu es un veritables homme chers non?" Max laughs, waggling his shaggy eyebrows at me and laughing.

I'm about to answer by breaking my stick over his pointed little head when Sid, Bugsy and Jordy hit the ice, and thankfully all the attention shifts to them, and by the looks of it, Sid's not having much more luck with those boys than I am over here.

* * *

"So explain to me why you've been banging her for months, and dating for what…two weeks and you're not introducing her to mommy?" Bugsy asks, peering at me with his too intense blue eyes and it has the effect it usually has, makes me look away and feel about a foot tall.

"She's here for a short visit, you know, with me. I'm taking her for dinner tonight, she's coming to the game tomorrow, then a quick dinner with Mario and Nat and it's done, okay? It's just too intense for a 'meet the fockers' sort of thing you know? And besides, Jen's on shift anyways."

"Are you saying you can't take mom down there to meet her? I mean, c'mon man, we both know they spend half their time down there doin' nothing."

"And say what? Hey mom, this is my girlfriend, she's five years older than me, and I barely know anything about her? Yeah, good plan."

"No, didn't you just tell me…," Bugsy doesn't get to finish his sentence when Gronk grabs me and spins me around, nearly sending me onto my ass in the middle of the ice.

"Will someone please explain to me why you've been doing the nasty and I don't know about it?" Jordy pleads, his grip on my jersey making it hard to stand. "I thought we were friends man? C'mon? How can you not tell me this?"

"You behave like this and you wonder why no one tells you anything?" Bugsy shakes his head at him. "Dude…when you told Veronique about my stag doo…?" he lets his voice trail off and then flex's his bicep in Jordy's general direction and looks menacing until Jordy skates off to pout. "Now tell me again, how you can tell me that she's the only girl you've ever said…."

"Boys, what do I say? Your private life, your private time, my ice, my time. Now let's get going here," Therrien snarls as he skates past me, tapping my ankles with the blade of his stick and giving me that look, the 'I expected better of _you_ Sidney' look. With a sigh I shrug to Ryan who raises his eyebrow in that 'we'll talk later' sort of way, and we both hit the ice for some stretching.

* * *

(**I don't know Finnish. I have looked up a word or two here and there, but I don't know it and I'm not even going to try. I took French, I got A's, I don't pretend my French is perfect but I'm pretty sure it's okay. For the following scene please pretend you're getting subtitles and in the following conversation, all dialogue underlined, is Finnish. Thank you for your cooperation)**

"She's Oriental," my mother tilts her head to one side and makes that disapprove mouth, the one that sort of looks like a puckered up asshole.

"Yes mom, she's Chinese," I correct her, or rather, try and smile and move them both into my apartment so that we're not doing this in the hallway.

"What's she saying?" Carmen hisses, glancing from my mother to me with a concerned look on her face.

"She's just saying how exotic you are," I smile reassuringly at her, reaching for her hand to pull her closer to me, only to find that her hand is shaking. No, make that, _she_ is shaking as I put my arm protectively around her shoulders.

"She's not Finnish," my mother adds as I pull the door shut with my free hand, still trying to move them both inside.

"No mom, she's not," I smile, trying to indicate with a tilt of my head that we should head to the living room.

"What did I tell you? You should join the Finnish community association and meet a nice Finnish girl…."

"Mom, the only women at the community centre are old women and little girls. I know if you give her a chance that you'll like Carmen."

"She's American," she adds with a sigh of distaste, giving Carmen's dark sweater and long skirt the motherly once over glare. Personally I think she came overdressed, I guess that I'm missing the cleavage, but I guess I can understand why she went for the conservative look tonight. After all, it's not me she's trying to impress, it's mom.

"No mom, she's _Canadian_," I point out, pushing Carmen gently down on the sofa and gathering both of her shaking hands into mine while I grin uncomfortably from one important woman in my life to the other. "She's going to be a lawyer," I point out, trying to move the conversation along to more positive subjects while Carmen stares helplessly from me to my mom and back.

"So my son's money isn't enough for her? She has to get her own job, is that it?" she sniffs, looking down her nose at both of us.

"No mom, she's smart, that's all I'm trying to say. She's _very_ smart and independent and pretty, don't you think?" I'm beginning to feel that ache in my temples coming back that hasn't been there for months. Or at least since Therrien stopped picking on me.

"She's too young for you," she says, looking down her nose at Carmen and I can feel Carmen stiffen against me, and I know that I'm not going to be able explain this away.

"What's she saying?" Carmen hisses through her teeth, giving my hand a hard squeeze.

"She's just asking about you," I smile, trying to keep my voice light but one sideways glance from Carmen tells me she isn't buying a word of it. "It's fine," I add, trying to sound reassuring, but the way her posture gets even straighter I know she doesn't believe a word of it.

"I hope she's not living here," my mother continues, smoothing down her skirt and avoiding the evil gaze I level at her.

"You know what…she's not now but that's a very good idea," I smile over at my mother and watch her face blanch as I lift Carmen's hands to my lips.

"What?" Carmen's eyes go wide as she looks at me. "What?" she asks again as she glances over at my mom and then back at me.

"My mom was just saying that we should live together. I think it's a great idea, what do you think?" I ask, hearing my mother sigh unhappily as Carmen frown begins to turn around, and then she throws her arms around my neck and lets out one of her patented happy little squeals.

* * *

"So you okay? Everything still good here? You and Mario still getting along okay?" my mom asks, reaching across the table to push my hair off of my forehead. I have to stop myself from batting her hand away. It's a mom thing, and I don't see her as often as I'd like to these days, so if I have to put up with a bit of fussing, I tell myself it's worth it. She's been holding it back through most of the meal, but I've seen the looks. The furtive worried 'mom' looks she's been giving me. I knew it was coming, so I square my shoulders and put on my best media relations smile.

"Fine mom, everything's just fine," I reply, keeping my tone upbeat, knowing she worries but that she really has been doing her best to let her adult son be on his own and not check in on me too often and because I actually appreciate how hard that must be, I don't want her to worry.

"Is there anything you need?" she asks and then catches herself, holding up her hands defensively. "I know, I know, if you did you would get it yourself but maybe there's something you need from home? Something from Nan or…." I smile over at her and shake my head. She means well, and I know she'd like to be able to fuss over me more, so I tell myself to have a little patience, after all, this will be over soon.

"I really can't think of anything that I need mom, I'm fine. Try not to worry about me so much. Besides, you're supposed to be here to relax, remember? You're here to visit, so, you know, just let me look after you for a change." She nods, but I can tell by the way she's tapping the edge of the table that she's not done yet. "Mom, honestly, I'm fine. Nat looks after me really well."

"But you just look so tired honey, are you getting enough sleep? Are you taking those supplements the trainer suggested?" she continues her fussing as I sign off on the visa slip and I watch the waiter walk away with it so that I have time to wipe the frustration from my face before I turn back to her.

"Mom, I'm _fine_," I sigh, turning back to watch her worried eyes sweep over me. She's not the only one who thinks that I look tired. I've seen the concern in Jen's eyes when I catch her watching me. "It's the playoffs, that's all."

"You just look so _pale_," she shrugs, giving me that hopeful little mom shrug as if to say she's given up arguing, but her smile is tight and I know that means she'd like to continue but won't for my sake, because she wants me to be happy.

"I'm fine mom," I reiterate for what seems like the hundredth time, reaching for her jacket and holding it out for her to slide into. "A few more games and it will all be over and then, you know me, I'll be eating cod and chips and relaxing."

"Yes, you need some time back home, some home cooking and some time away from all this attention, not to mention some time away from so many late night parties," she adds, glancing around furtively like we might be overheard and it will be reported in tomorrow's papers that Mr. and Mrs. Crosby's good little boy has been out partying.

"Mom, I don't belong to a frat and there's not as much late night partying as you think. Especially not this time in the season." I chuckle, leading her through the maze of tables. She doesn't need to know about Max and Jordy and Geno, some of the stuff they get up to would make her worry. But it isn't any of her business, and besides, I can't think when the last time was that I was out with all of them.

"Well anyways, I'm looking forward to getting you home and fussing over you a little, I miss doing that," she smiles at me as we hit the surprisingly warm Spring air. I take a lungful and stretch, which makes me think of where I'd be right now if it wasn't for her visiting.

"Look mom, I'm not sure how much I'm going to be home this summer," I begin, firstly thinking about last years' trip to the Bahamas but then I realize that I haven't made any plans like that yet, that I have other ideas forming in my head about how I'll be spending my time off.

"Of course I meant you'd be at your own place, I know you've been furnishing it and you'll want to take Sam out there and…," I stop her, turning to her so she can see that I'm serious when I say this.

"I _will_ want to spend some time out there and of course I want to spend some time with you and dad and Taylor and Nan but…I have stuff here to deal with. I might want to look for a place and…well I might want to stay around here a bit."

"You're seeing someone," she says suddenly, narrowing her eyes so they crepe at the edges as she peers at me. "Is it serious?" She hisses, taking another quick look around like someone's going to jump out of the bushes at us with a pad and a pen or worse, a camera. For a moment I think about denying it, but I can tell by the way she's looking at me that it must show in my face, and my mind's already slid to thinking about Jen and her bed and her house….

"I don't know right now mom, okay? But…yeah I want to see how it goes and if that means hanging out here for a while then I'm going to do that."

"Looking for a place? _With_ her?" she asks, ignoring completely what I've just said and biting onto what I've said before like some kind of rat terrier.

"I don't know mom, I don't even know why I even said that. We haven't talked about anything like that at all," I grumble, backing away from her and with a flick of my wrist, unlocking the doors on the Land Rover and walking around to the other side to get behind the wheel, partly just to get some space while I try and think about how to explain this to my mom who still seems to think I'm about ten years old.

I've never been good at talking to my parents about this kind of thing. All I talk about with my dad is hockey, and my mom, well, she just likes to fuss so I try not to give her stuff to fuss about. But it's too late for that now I realize as I open the door to find her sitting in the passenger seat staring out the windshield like she's mad at me, for one thing, and for another, like she's expecting to go somewhere.

"I want to meet her." She says it so matter-of-factly that I almost say yes, and then I remember that that's the last thing I need right now.

"Oh god mom. No, okay? I'm not ready for that, and I'm not going to spring you on her either." I try and explain but she just purses her lips and stares straight ahead.

"If my little boy is moving in with some…_girl_, I want to meet her first." I lean my head on the steering wheel and curse quietly. Mom hates it when I swear so I try not to around her. I hate being put between a rock and a hard place but that doesn't seem to stop her from doing it.

"If that happens, _if_, then I promise that you will, okay?" I offer, glancing over at her to see her shaking her head.

"I want to meet her Sidney. Tonight, please."

"Fuuuuuuck," I groan, putting my head back onto the steering wheel. "I can't…_we_ can't just drop in on her mom. You don't do that to people. It's bad manners, you taught me that," I try, but she only stares straight ahead, her hands folded on her purse like god-damn driving miss daisy.

"It's not bad manners to call ahead son," she says cool as you please, causing me to roll my eyes and let out another curse word under my breath, an even worse word, that makes her pucker her lips in disapproval.

"She's at _work_ mom," I sigh, shaking my head.

"Well then, we won't be invading her space will we? We'll just be dropping in to say hello. We won't even have to call ahead." I stare at her, my mouth open, unbelieving as if my unassuming mom has just grown horns. I've never seen her like this. I mean, she wanted to meet Mario and Nat before I moved in there but it wasn't…_she_ wasn't like this. "Well honey? We don't want it to be too late. That _would_ be rude." She adds, smiling to herself as I just shake my head and start the car. She's got me there.

Fuck. This is going to _suck_.


	22. Chapter 22

C22

"I can't believe she hates me," I sigh, my cheek pressed to his chest, his fingers stroking absentmindedly through my hair. "Usually parents like me. I'm respectful, sweet, educated…," I let my voice trail away as he chuckles which makes his chest shake.

"I don't think she _hates _you, exactly," he smirks, flinching when I raise my hand to smack the side of his head.

"Oh she hates me. She wouldn't even speak directly to me all night _and_ she poked at the food I cooked like I was trying to poison her," I complain, feeling completely sorry for myself and just a little angry at him for seeming to enjoy my discomfort.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I think you won some brownie points with her when you took down my poster," he snorts.

"Well, honey, Metallica tour posters aren't art," I point out, turning to grin up at him, my chin resting on the back of my hand as I gaze up at him, my gaze traveling over the new battle scars criss-crossing the bridge of his nose and beside his green eyes. "If we're going to live together, you're going to have to learn to compromise on the décor."

"But I _like_ Metallica," he points out, sighing dramatically and rolling his eyes playfully even as he laughs when I dig my nails into his chest in a threatening sort of way.

"Listening to it on the way to the rink is one thing, but you're a bit old for rock posters honey. I'm sure we can find something a little more adult to replace them," I offer, raking my nails gently down his chest, enjoying the little shudder he gives in reaction.

"Adult? You mean like, naked pictures of you?" he suggests, wincing when I dig my nails into his ribs.

"Funny, I don't think your mommy would appreciate that either, do you?"

"They could be artistic, maybe black and white?" he suggests, his voice going up an octave or two when I dig my nails into his sides hard enough I know they're going to leave a mark. "What? You don't think that's a good idea? You're beautiful. I'd love to get to look at you all the time."

"Yeah but that means that everyone that comes here would get to as well, and I don't think you want Geno and Gonch and Georges to all get a good look too, do you?" I ask, straddling him and pinning his arms down at his sides.

"You mean make them jealous? Hell yeah," he laughs, not even bothering to struggle against me. "I am _so_ enjoying having the hottest girlfriend on the team."

"Well at least _that's_ true," I grin, rolling my eyes skyward and tipping my head to one side a-la Betty Boop, which makes him laugh, and then reach for me, grabbing my waist and tickling me until I try to get away from him, which only makes it easier for him to pin me, not that I'm complaining.

"I love you, you know that right?" he says suddenly, his easy grin fading and the mischievous sparkle leaking from his gaze.

"You know I do tiger," I reply quietly, giving him my best 'come hither' gaze, not wanting him to stop playing once I've got him over me.

"I meant what I said earlier, I want you to move in here, with me," he continues, reaching forward as he eases his body down to the mattress beside mine, and running his fingers down my cheek, making me melt into him.

"Mmmhmm, I believed you," I mutter, running my hand up his chest, admiring the tone of his skin against my blood red fingernails.

"You know it's sort of my way of taking this to the next level? That I'm saying this is sort of a trial basis of how I intend to spend the rest of our lives together?" My heart literally stops and my chest begins to hurt as I look up into his green eyes and see nothing but total and utter sincerity, and then all I can do is nod, once, and try very hard not to cry as he slowly runs the back of his hand across my cheek before sliding his fingers into my hair and down over my shoulder. "So there's this one thing that I haven't wanted to bring up, not until I was sure that this is what we both wanted," he gives me the shadow of a smile as his gaze searches mine with utter solemnity in every line of his handsome face. "I don't know what's going to happen, but you know how many guys are going to be free agents at the end of this season, and you know that I haven't been exactly a favourite of Therrien's," he continues and I have to bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from arguing the point. Now doesn't seem quite the time to point out that the fans have grown to love him almost as much as I do. "There's a lot of guys they need to get signed, and guys like Hossa and Geno are going to be really expensive, and there's no guarantee that I'll be here next season. Hell there's no guarantee I'll be in the league come September. There's already a lot of good guys playing over in Europe. So…what I'm saying is, I don't know where I'm going to be but…," his gaze holds mine as he licks his lips nervously before continuing, "I do know that wherever I might end up, I want you to be with me Carmen. I know that's a lot to ask and I don't expect you to give me an answer now but, before we go any further, before you move in, I think we need to seriously talk about this."

His gaze searches mine, and all I can do is blink back at him, giving him the deer in the headlights look as I try and get my brain around what he's just said.

* * *

When we pull up outside of the firehouse, the crew is out in the driveway playing street hockey under the streetlights, and even from the inside of the Land Rover I can hear their laughter. I pick out Jen's pony tail amongst all the guys right away. She's protecting the tennis ball with her stick and her body, spreading her legs wide and holding off one of the guys with her free arm. It reminds me of me, and I can help but smile to myself.

It's good to hear her laughing, good to see her smile after everything she's been through. Which makes me feel worse for 'just dropping by' like this. I have to steel myself for my mother; this seems incredibly unfair to subject anyone else to her s'mothering'.

"If you think you're going to distract me by stopping to see one of your friends…," my mother begins and I almost laugh, wondering how she thinks I would find the time to develop the kind of friendships that would last outside of the team.

Actually…it _is_ kind of amazing how much time I've gotten to spend with Jen. I guess I should have stopped kidding myself a long time ago that what we had going was only casual. I haven't bothered to get to know anyone I don't play with, except for Jen. But looking at her now, even without any makeup and her hair tied back into a simple pony tail, in her work blues, just looking at her makes my chest get tight.

"This is it mom, this is where she works," I sigh, reaching for the handle on the door wishing I'd at least had the forethought to text her a warning, although, by the looks of it, she might not have got it even if I had.

"Here?" she asks, peering out the window and I realize that not everyone may be able to pick her out of the crowd.

"Right there mom, the one with the ponytail," I reach across her and point to where I can see Jen using her shoulder and speed advantage to move around one of the bigger guys.

"She's a…firefighter?" my mom asks, sounding incredulous.

"And a paramedic," I point out, though I'm not certain why I feel the need to. It seems wrong to think that on one hand I don't care what anyone thinks and feel the need to defend her at the same time.

"She works with all those…men?" I have the urge to say the same thing to her that I said to Fleur when he first pointed that out to me;' I know, and she chooses to tie _me_ to her bed,' but I don't. Instead I just get out of the SUV and walk up the drive, wishing I could just reach for a stick and join them, that I wasn't in this suit and that I can't hear the click of my mom's sensible shoes behind me.

A couple of the guys stop or at least pause as they see me approach and I have a moment to wonder how much they know about us. After the way I showed up at the hospital that night, I'm betting she's had to provide at least some kind of explanation, but thankfully there's none of the blue comments I might have expected if my mother wasn't trailing close behind me. But their stopping gives Jen even more room and she easily sends a backhand slap through the traffic cones and lets out a shriek of triumph. But when she turns to celebrate with her team mates, she only finds me standing behind her.

Without so much as missing a beat she jumps into my arms and wraps hers' around my neck and plants her lips over mine as I slide my hands down to cup her temptingly round ass. It would be so easy to deepen this kiss, and even though I'm sure she'd never hear the end of it, I'm betting, with this bunch of guys, I'd be able to walk right into the Firehouse carrying her like this, and no one would do or say anything to stop us.

I guess that also answers the question as to what she's told them about us.

But I don't deepen the kiss and maybe she can feel the tension in the way I pull back from her lips or even in my stillness, but without taking her arms away from around my neck, she peers around me over my shoulder, and that's when I feel the energy drain out of her, and slowly she slides out of my arms and plants her feet back on the ground.

I watch her rub her hands nervously down her pants and then she offers her outstretched hand to my mother, putting on her best coming to dinner smile, and simply welcomes my mother to the station.

"Mrs. Crosby, it's so nice to finally meet you. I'd say I've heard so many good things about you but I think we both know that all Sid ever talks about is hockey," she adds, her shoulders squared, her chin held high and proud, just like I knew it would be. The only hint that she's stressed is the way the corner of her jaw twitches, and somehow even that is adorable to me now, just one more thing for me to love about her.

"Is there somewhere you and I could talk?" my mom asks, glancing around nervously at all the big guys surrounding us and watching both Jen and I with amusement.

"Not really," Jen replies with a confident smile that barely hides the tremor in her jaw. "There really isn't a lot of privacy around here." I think about the picnic tables behind the hall, but keep my mouth shut. If she doesn't want to spend time alone with my mom, I'm not going to toss her in the deep end. This is bad enough.

"Maybe we can meet for dinner then, tomorrow? After the game?" my mom asks, leveling her gaze at Jen who just shakes her head.

"Sorry, we don't leave the house when we're on duty," she explains, turning to give me a chaste kiss on the cheek, making sure I don't miss the angry look that passes across her face that she erases before she turns to smile warmly at my mother. "We've got a game to finish, want to play?" she asks, offering me the stick, which my fingers itch to take but…

"Maybe another time, I've got to get mom back to the hotel. Early night before a game," I explain, hoping she can forgive me for this intrusion.

"Well, it was nice meeting you Mrs. Crosby, sorry it had to be so fleeting. Maybe another time," Jen smiles, turning to go back to her game, being welcomed into the group as if they are closing ranks, just like I know my guys would in the same situation. I almost want to laugh at how well she handled it, how easily she brushed us off.

Every day I find something else to admire about that woman.

Guiding my mom back to the truck, I can feel the air prickle around her as she stiffens at my touch and I can only guess at how pissed she is right now, but the good thing is I know she won't say a thing. I may not get a call for a few days, and she will get over this eventually, but in the mean time, she's going to be good and pissed off.

I just hope Jen doesn't feel the same,


	23. Chapter 23

C23

"Watch out world! Lord Stanley here I come!" Max shouts as he slides into the shower, sending wet spray up around him and almost colliding with Bugsy. Everyone laughs, but then, everyone's in a good mood, or almost everyone.

"What's with the long face mon petit ami?" Georges asks as he heads by, not wearing a towel, again, so that I have to remind myself to look up at him, although that's not really that hard to do.

"I'm torn," I admit, running a towel over my head before tossing it into the bin in the middle of the room along with all our jerseys, socks and everything else that can be washed, before reaching for my dress shirt.

"Well you're thinking, and that would be your first mistake right now," Jordy grins, giving me a little shove as he walks by scratching at his beard and laughing.

"He's correct," Georges grins, laughing as he sits on the bench beside me, forcing me to stare straight ahead, or anywhere but at him. "Tonight we party. Tomorrow we worry about our hangovers, Tuesday we can think."

"Yeah well…easy for you to say. My mom and dad and sister are here and my dad actually wants me to come out for dinner with them."

"Out for dinner?" Bugsy joins us, tossing his towel into the pile and stepping out of his flip flops before reaching for his clothes. "Fuck man, we're all going out to Blush, no exceptions, not even for boring married men like me. No exceptions Captain, c'mon, don't let us down now," he wags his finger in my face and tries to sound stern but it doesn't come across quite that way when he just can't stop grinning.

"I know it's just…I feel like I owe them or something," I try to explain, only to have both Georges and Bugsy laugh and shake their heads at me.

"That's why you buy them a house and shit. Besides, don't you owe Fleur for being fucking amazing?" Bugsy slaps Marc on the ass as he goes by and then turns to grin at me. "And fuck man, you owe me because I was on _fire_ today."

"You were," I agree, laughing as he flexes his muscles, making his tattoos wiggle and dance.

"Now if you said you wanted to see Jen _that_ I might understand, but your parents man? Fuck! Tell them to hit the damn road Croz, c'mon man, don't let me down."

"Everyone's going?" I ask, glancing around the room as some of the other guys come out of the showers and others are looking like they're already ready to leave.

"Hell yeah," Jordy tosses his tie around his neck and starts beating his chest like some kind of demented baboon. "First round is on the captain!" Which gets a round of 'hell yeahs' and whistles.

"You too old man?" I glance down the aisle at Gonch who nods mutely and then at Ruuts, who only shrugs.

"I'll come for a while but…I have some stuff to sort out at home," he explains, turning his gaze back on his shoes, and considering he's usually one of the first guys dressed and out of here, it's kind of weird to see him dressed and sitting around.

"You and Carmen okay?" I ask, still inwardly flinching every time I mention her name. I keep expecting the feisty Fin to sock me in the jaw for sleeping with his girlfriend, but so far, I've been on the receiving end of nothing more than a couple of dirty looks.

"Yeah, yeah," he shrugs. "I just gave her an ultimatum a week or so ago that I'm thinking now was maybe not such a good idea," he mumbles, running his fingers through his thick beard. "She's been a little quiet lately. I've been trying to think of something to get her mind off of it."

"I thought you seemed a little quiet out there little buddy," Georges laughs, striding over to Ruuts and smacking him on the shoulder hard enough that Ruuts flinches. "Come, drink with us, we'll talk huh? Celebrate now, think later, just like I've been telling our little captain here," he adds, winking at me and giving me his big winning smile. "C'mon you two sourpusses. Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we shall feast in hell!" he calls out, and we all rise and let out a war cry. We watch too many movies on the road.

"So you comin'?" Bugsy asks again, looking me directly in the eye.

"Yeah, I just have one thing to do," I mutter, leaning over to pull my shoes out from under the bench, feeling that familiar knot forming in my stomach.

* * *

"There he is!" Troy rubs his big meaty hands together and beams like a proud papa, and I guess he has the right, it just makes me blush as I walk down the corridor towards them. At least Taylor is rolling her eyes and looking like she's wishing herself to be anywhere but here. That makes two of us.

"We are so proud Sidney," my mom sniffs with big fat tears rolling down her cheeks, and I begin to feel like the worst person on earth as she pulls me into her arms and hugs me like she hasn't seen me in weeks, instead of it only being a few days.

"Thanks," I manage to spit out as she lets me go, hardly able to meet their gazes as they both stare at me with big round eyes full of love and pride, making me feel about two feet tall. "I uh…I just want to say thank you, you know, to both of you and uh…yeah I couldn't have done it without you," I add, clenching my teeth at how trite it sounds coming out of my mouth.

"Oh c'mon Sidney, you just keep winning and that will be all the thanks we need huh mom?" my dad puts his huge arms around my mom and sister like some kind of overgrown bear and just keeps grinning like he couldn't stop if he wanted to.

"I'm so proud of you," my mom sniffles, digging through her purse for more tissue, and I hand her the packet I took from the trainer's room on the way here. I don't know how old it is, because there's no crying in hockey, but I don't think there's an expiry date on Kleenex.

"I can't wait for you to bring the…oh, I just about said it," my dad guffaws at his own joke and it's all I can do not to roll my eyes as I exchange a knowing looking with my little sister.

"So uh…are we going or what? Cuz this place kinda stinks," Taylor sighs dramatically and I shoot her a grateful smile that I quickly wipe from my face as I look back up at my dad.

"Yeah about that. Um…I'm kinda going with the guys, we're _all _going. The whole team so…you understand right?" I look from my dad to my mom hopefully, seeing their faces darken in that same way I've seen before. They're disappointed with me and suddenly I feel like I'm five years old.

"We have reservations," my mom says quietly, glancing over at my dad, thinking he's the only one who can make me see sense.

"Good, I didn't want to go to that French place anyway, now can we go just for burgers or something?" Taylor grins, her braces shining up first at my mom and then at my dad. I feel like hugging her.

"We'll have a few days now, we can go out tomorrow or…you know, soon," I suggest, moving forward to give my mom a little hug and then hold my hand out to my dad, who looks down at it and then up at me before he slowly takes my hand in his.

"Good job tonight son," he says quietly, giving me a pat on the shoulder, but still letting me see his disappointment. I nod, and turn to go, feeling that same familiar knot tightening in my stomach.

* * *

"Can't sleep?" he asks, leaning in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of well worn jeans, with the top button undone. I'd heard him sneaking in, knew he was trying not to wake me, even though I'd have preferred that he had, rather than it be all these random thoughts in my head keeping me awake. Licking my lips, I let my gaze travel over his now highly chiseled chest, any trace of softness having melted away in the heat and stress of the playoff run, my gaze travelling down the goody trail and I have to actually close my eyes to stop my train of thought from taking me places my body is just too tired to go to. "I told you that I didn't expect an answer on that until after the playoffs," he adds, dragging my attention back up to his full lips, to the glasses sitting not quite straight across his nose that I'm assuming is still a bit tender from Marty Biron's glove. I don't know what it is about a man in glasses, but the combination of the muscles in his arms flexing as he crosses them over his chest and the way those jeans are currently sitting low on his hips and the glasses…taking a deep breath, I smile up at him.

"Not that I didn't want you to beat the Flyers honey but…it just seems like all of a sudden I'm running out of time," I explain, shrugging as he nods, like he understands.

"Well we don't have to talk about it tonight, if you don't want to," he adds, tipping his head to one side to look at me, and I realize that I'm sitting in this overstuffed leather chair in nothing but one of his ratty old t-shirts, and his gaze makes me feel self conscious, making me pull my legs up under his shirt, tugging it down over my ankles, stretching it all to hell.

"I need some time to think," I sigh, by way of an explanation for why I'm curling up like this, instead of teasing him and making him take me to bed, which I do want, which I _always _want with him, but just not now, not with all these decisions to make.

"You know what I do when I need to think," he suggests, walking over to me, his muscles rippling in the near dark, making my mouth go dry.

"Go jogging," I reply, imagining his body gleaming with sweat and having to blink the image away.

"Sometimes," he smiles, his broad soft lips curving upwards as he holds a hand out to me. "But sometimes I go for a ride."

"A ride?" I look up at him, confused, sure he must mean a drive, and thinking with my mind sinking so deeply in the gutter right now that the last thing I need is to watch him shifting gears and sending his beamer down the highway at break neck speeds.

"I'm not supposed to ride during the season but, tonight the coach sent us out to party and technically the night isn't over yet, so I think I can make an exception. Go put some warm clothes on," he suggests, pulling me to my feet so that my body slams up against his, his broad chest pressing against mine, his pelvis meeting mine for a brief moment as he draws my lips up to his for one brief soft kiss, before he turns and heads for the bedroom.

* * *

Handing her a closed face helmet, I watch her eyes go wide as her gaze slides over my new VRSCDX Harley Night Rod. I remember feeling the same way when I first saw it in the window of the dealership. I had to have it. I couldn't wait to get on it and ride. It just sucks that technically I'm not allowed, contractually, to do any of this kind of fun thrill seeking stuff during the season, but then, I don't want to end up like Mikko.

"You never told me you had a bike," she grins, her eyes dancing in the almost complete dark of the underground parking.

"Have you ever ridden?" I ask, throwing my leg over and cranking the throttle, smiling to myself when the V-twin roars to life. It occurs to me that I might be pissing off the neighbors, but only for a moment, I forget all about it when I see the excitement in Carmen's face. "C'mon," I pat what passes for a seat behind me and she quickly hops on, wrapping her arms around my waist and leaning into me as I strap my skull cap on.

Heading out into the cool pre dawn air, I feel a grin tugging at my cheeks. God it feels good to have the wind blowing against my face, to have my woman's arms around me and knowing I'm going to play in the big game. I have a chance to win the Cup. Life is good.

Speeding through the half light of pre-dawn, I wonder where the other guys are now. I left before things got too out of hand but the way Max and Gronk and some of the other guys were hitting the champagne, I have no doubt that things got even rowdier after I left. One thing is for sure, those girls made a killing off the Pens tonight. I knew I had better to come home to. I just didn't plan on Carmen being in such a sullen mood.

I almost wish I hadn't said anything to her now, or at least that I'd left off the ultimatum part of it. I know I've been focusing on the games this past week, but something's different with Carmen too. She's not her usual fun self.

Still, I need to know.

Feeling her pressed against my back, I can hear her laughing as I take an off ramp at break neck speed. You've got to love a girl who loves fast things. I'm about to lean back to tell her so, when I feel her hand move up to pull down the zipper of my leather jacket and a shudder runs down my spine as her fingers slowly make their way down my bare chest. It's stupid, to not have dressed better, it's even a little too cool this early to only be wearing my leathers, but I wanted to get out here before the traffic, so that we could really get moving. Now, even though it's crazy for her to do this, it's fucking dangerous, and yet I don't stop her, don't push her hand away as her fingers trail over my stomach and pause just beneath my belly button, making my breath catch in my throat.

God this is crazy. I'm going like 110 and she's playing.

But I don't ask her to stop, not even when she slides her hand back up and tweaks my nipple between her thumb and forefinger hard enough that it hurts but not so hard that it does anything but make me hiss and shudder with need. I don't even ask her to stop when her hand slides back down and works at the top button of my jeans. God knows I should. I should yell at her that she's crazy, that she's going to get both of us killed, but I don't. Instead, I lift off the seat a bit, standing on the pegs so she can get her hand inside of my jeans, so she can stroke me until I feel the blood rushing out of my legs and I know if I let her continue, we really will crash and probably both be killed.

Except I don't really want her to stop. This is, after all, part of why I left the party early. Looking at those other women, it just made me think of her, of her tiny waist, her full round breasts, her impossibly long legs. I'd driven like a maniac to get home to her, but then I'd thought what a selfish ass I was being. After all, she does have class sometime this morning. I know that much. I thought I'd let her sleep, for a while anyway.

But instead I nose the bike in the direction of an off ramp, heading for Heinz Field, hoping to hell the parking lot behind the stadium is empty. I hear her chuckle as she pulls my leather jacket back to give her access to my neck, which she sinks her teeth into, making me flinch enough so that the bike wobbles, and she has to cling tighter. Tighter is good, I can feel her breasts pressing against my back and if it wasn't for the thickness of the leather, I know her nipples would be digging into my back.

Pulling the bike to a stop on the water side of the field, thanking whoever might be listening that the parking lot is empty, I push the kickstand down with my foot and reach to turn off the engine but Carmen reaches to still my hand, and when I turn to look, the heat of desire in her eyes makes my chest get tight.

* * *

A combination of the cool night air clearing my head and the rumble of the V-twin engine between my thighs has me almost panting with desire by the time he pulls the motorcycle into the parking lot behind the football stadium. I can't keep my hands off of him, this man makes me ache with need.

Stepping off the bike, I pull off my jacket, and drop it to the ground, but when I reach for the top button of my jeans, Jarkko's eyes go wide as he scans the empty parking lot.

"Are you crazy? We'll get caught," he hisses, making a move to get off the bike to stop me but I only move forward enough to press my lips to his ear.

"I know, fucking hot right?" I giggle, licking his earlobe before stepping back to wriggle out of my jeans, leaving my shoes behind before turning and heading back towards him, swinging my hips seductively as I watch him watch me. I get to see his gaze heat as I move toward him, get to see him flex his long fingers, like he's already touching me, get to see that tell tale twitch in his jeans that sends a shiver of anticipation right down my spine and leaves my knees weak with desire.

"You're crazy," he hisses, but doesn't stop me as I climb back on the bike, facing him this time. Shaking my hair out of the pony tail its' been held in as we rode, my gaze meets his and I watch his eyes roam over me, his tongue sweep out to moisten his soft lips as I press my hands tightly to the sides of the streamlined tank and arch my back over its' smooth surface before slowly and deliberately lifting each leg to gently rest my thighs over top of his, leaving me wide open, waiting for his touch.

I watch him try to catch his breath as his green eyes eagerly slide over my body, and his hands twitch at his sides, like he's half afraid to touch, like maybe if he gets started, he won't be able to stop himself. Giving a quick shake of his head, like he can't believe me, or he needs to clear the cobwebs, I watch his hands slide to his jeans and then it's my turn to catch my breath as he unzips his them, loosing his thick hard erection while he plants his feet on the ground to steady the bike, and me, before digging his fingers into my hips and dragging me towards him and settling himself between my thighs.

Then he just rests there, his swollen cock nudging my aching pussy gently, while his green gaze sweeps hungrily over my bare torso. Then I feel his hands follow that hungry gaze, slowly sliding up to my waist, and then farther northward, to cup my breasts, giving each a gentle, but firm squeeze. Then, achingly slowly he leans forward, and while his gaze firmly holds mine, he runs his tongue in a deliberately slow circle around one engorged and tender nipple and then the other, sending goose-bumps flying across my skin and tightening my grip on the smooth tank.

While I bite back a moan, his tongue sweeps up over my collarbone, up to the curve of my neck and then farther still, until his teeth bury themselves in my earlobe, hard enough to make me squirm.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispers, his hands still squeezing my breasts as his bare chest presses against mine, and then his hands slide up over my shoulders, and gripping onto the handlebars for leverage, he makes the engine rumble beneath me as his cock slides home sending wave after wave of pleasure through my entire body, leaving me quaking on the verge of orgasm as he moans into my ear. "God, you're so wet," he hisses, thrusting harder this time, making the bike strain against the kickstand as I wrap my legs around his waist.

"Harder babe, please," I urge, pushing up against him, the vibration of the engine driving me closer and closer to the edge, my hands slipping as I try to maintain my grip on the smooth tank. With a grunt he pushes up on tip toes and slams into me, pressing my shoulder blade painfully against the speedometer. Biting down on my bottom lip, I do my best to stop from crying out but as he slams into me again, I taste the coppery tang of blood as my teeth sink into the soft flesh of my lip and then I'm screaming his name for all of Pittsburgh to hear.

"I can't believe we just did that," he chuckles in my ear as he holds me close, wrapping his muscular arms around me and pressing his lips to the curve of my neck. "You're crazy, you know that? You could have got us both arrested. I'm supposed to play in the Stanley Cup final remember? I can't do that very well from jail now can I?"

"Yeah and then I suppose they could take our green cards," I giggle, snuggling up to his warm body in the chill air, even though the sun has begun to climb over the horizon. "Then I'd never see you again and that would make me sad."

"Would it?" he asks, lifting my chin and searching my gaze with one suddenly turned serious.

"Yeah," I smile up at him, watching the first golden rays of the sun touch his face, turning his whiskers a dark bronze and his eyes a deep emerald green. Looking into his eyes, I can feel my chest tighten, tears suddenly pricking at the back of my eyes as a deep well of emotion begins to bubble to the surface just at the thought of losing him. "Marry me," I whisper, my lips brushing his.

"What?" he whispers, holding me so that I have to look directly in his eyes, "what did you say?"

"You heard me," I smile, holding his gaze even though I can't quite believe what I've said either. "And don't give me any of that macho bullshit about proposals being a man's prerogative either. I'm sick and tired of you pussy footing around the subject. Marry me Jarkko. Marry me and I'll follow you from here to Finland and back. I love you. I've loved you for what seems like forever, so marry me."

* * *

"What time do you call this?" I snap, crossing my arms in front of me and clenching my teeth to hold back all the angry words that spring to my lips the moment I open the door to find him swaying on my front step. "You're drunk. Go home."

"I came to see you," he smiles, moving to step past me, but I push him back, shaking my head and moving to close the door in his face but he sticks his foot in the way. "Hey, what's going on? I blew off my parents and I haven't seen you in days," he whines, swaying towards me with the kind of big toothy grin on his face that would, under normal conditions, make me smile, just not tonight.

"Oh did you Sidney? And what am I supposed to say to that? Am I supposed to be overwhelmed with gratitude or something?" I watch him open easy grin turn to a quizzical frown, his eye narrow, his full soft lips thin out and I just want to smack some sense into him but I keep my hands pressed to the door, holding him out and remind myself that he's young, that he's drunk, and that I don't want to be charged with assault on the young phenom. "You really _don't_ get it do you?" I shake my head at him as he stares curiously at me, like he's trying to put the pieces together but his alcohol soaked brain can't quite do it. "This isn't how you treat someone you've declared your love to. It was one thing when I thought all I was to you was a booty call, but you don't just treat me like some kind of convenience and tell me you love me Sidney. I waited up all night, and now I'm tired, so just go home, please."

"But I _do_ love you," he leans towards me grinning, reaching for me again as if I haven't just snarled at him. Batting his hand away I shake my head at him and back up, putting more distance between us.

"Maybe, maybe when it's convenient for you, because it's all about you isn't Sidney? Because you're used to getting your way. You're used to everyone making time for you, even me. But I thought maybe that would change after the other night. I actually thought that maybe I meant more to you than this. But you haven't called, you didn't even offer me tickets to the game. Obviously you didn't even want to share _that_ with me. What did you expect me to think?" I wait for him to argue, to give me some explanation for the way he's been, for the radio silence, but he just stands there, looking young and confused and the longer he stands there staring, the angrier and closer to tears I get. "You force your mother on me, without so much as a warning phone call, and then you don't even call me. I didn't even know if I'd ever see you again, if she'd told you I was too old for you or forbidden you to see me. You don't call, you don't even text me…how do you think that makes me _feel_?"

"You thought she could forbid _me_ to see _you_?" he blinks and shakes his head like he's finally clearing the cobwebs. "Do you think I'm some kind of child? Do you think I've had nothing to do this last week? I've had games and practices and interviews and…"

"So you're saying you had _no _time to call to see if I was okay? To see if I was still mad at you?" I stare at him incredulously, my mouth hanging open.

"You were _mad_ at me?" He asks, blinking innocently, like it hasn't actually occurred to him that it was possible for me to be angry at him.

"Of course I'm fucking mad at you! You don't just bring your mother around to where I work without so much as a text to warn me. Do you know how embarrassed I was? I didn't even know your parents knew anything about me, I certainly wasn't prepared to be witty and charming and she sure as hell looked like she was so not thrilled to meet me. That was bullshit Sidney. How did you think I would feel? " I watch the shock on his face turn to distress as it dawns on him that I'm seriously upset with him and then the colour begins to leak from his cheeks as he sobers quickly.

"I didn't… but you kissed me," he stutters, his voice tight as he struggles to with the vehemence of my words.

"Of course I did, when I thought you were there to see me. When you didn't even call me later…fuck Sidney, you've been calling me almost every night for months for crying out loud and then _nothing_? I know your family is here and I know that it's the playoffs, I know it's important, I just thought that I was important to you too." I fight the tears beginning to well up in my eyes but when he reaches out to touch my hand, they spill over anyway. I don't want to be angry at him, I don't _want_ to feel like this, but at the same time, I don't want to be treated like this either.

"I'm sorry Jen…I didn't realize…."

"Of course not, you didn't think, because you expect everyone to just forgive you and adore you and I do, I might even still love you, but right now, I really wish I didn't," I cough, trying to stuff down the sob that's threatening to escape, but the hurt that suddenly fills his eyes makes my throat tighten and suddenly I'm grateful for the tears blurring my vision. Brushing his hand away, I push the door shut, and slam the dead bolt home, willing my heart to hear the finality in that noise, to visualize the door slamming on the dreams I've allowed to form in my mind.

Over, let it be over. Don't let him break my heart any more.


	24. Chapter 24

C24

"You're certifiable, you know that?" he chuckles, brushing his lips against my temple as he holds me close, and I can't stop grinning as I lay with my head on his shoulder. "And I don't mean that in an endearing cute sort of way, I mean you're nuts," he adds, giving me a gentle squeeze.

"What does that make you?" I ask, turning my grin up to meet his, only to find him rolling his big green eyes at me.

"Oh I think most people already think I'm pretty crazy," he grins that big Cheshire Cat grin of his and then presses his lips over mine, making me glad he's holding me because my knees haven't quite regained their solidity yet. "You're so brave," he whispers, his lips just brushing mine, his green eyes looking deeply into my dark ones.

"I'm so _not_ brave," I chuckle back, the intensity of the moment making me go for that knee jerk defensive reaction, laughter.

"You are though. You're one of the bravest people I know," he smiles down at me and my heart tries to crawl through my chest toward him, tries to lay itself open for him to see how much I adore him right this minute. "And crazy," he adds with a grin.

"_Aside_ from asking you to marry me," I whisper, partially because it still feels surreal and partially because I'm still afraid he'll change his answer and say no, "what about me makes you think I'm brave?"

"You moved here, by yourself, for one," he replies, pressing his nose against mine and digging his fingers playfully into my ribs, making me squeak and squirm at the same time. "Then there's the sex in the parking lot this morning," he adds, biting down on my bottom lip, sending waves of desire through my body.

"No, that's just the crazy part," I sigh as his lips trail lower, down my jaw line, stopping at my ear.

"I should be afraid of you," he whispers, his breath warm and wet, "stalker girl," he adds for emphasis before biting down on my earlobe, making me squirm and arch my back.

"I haven't even begun to do things that should make you afraid," I sigh as his hand slides up under my t-shirt, his thumb and forefinger rolling my nipple between them until I moan out loud and in pure self defense, I lean enough so that I can get my teeth into his bicep and bite down until he shudders and releases me.

"I can't wait to find out," he laughs, sweeping me up in his arms and turning me so that he can put me on the sofa and kneel over me, his legs straddling mine so its almost impossible for me to get away, short of doing his manhood some damage, and that's the last thing on my mind right now. "But before you get out your boots and walk all over me, I want to make love to my fiancée, if that's okay with you?" he asks, his fingers deftly unsnapping the top button of his jeans, and then stopping, that sexy smirk of his reappearing on his face as he watches me bite down on my lip as my gaze freezes on his package as it twitches. "Nothing? No reaction to the word?" he chuckles as I tilt my head and make an impatient noise in my throat.

"Mmmm stop teasing," I sigh, reaching for the zipper of his jeans, only to have him push my hands down, holding me by my wrists just above my head so that he's just looming above me, his green eyes gazing into mine.

"You have a one track mind," he smiles, bending enough to just brush his lips over mine.

"Are you…complaining?" I ask, nipping at his bottom lip and smiling.

"No, I just…can't quite believe my luck," his smile gets broader until it looks a lot like that famous grin of his that makes my heart flip flop in my chest and then he lowers himself down onto me and presses his lips over mine and kisses me into submission, or as close to it as he's ever going to get.

* * *

"I need your help," he barges past me into my apartment and nods at Carmen as she looks up at him over the newspaper and rolls her eyes. "Yours and hers," he nods back, turning to pace back toward me.

"Ummm, how did you know she'd be here?" I ask, still feeling defensive about Carmen around him, despite everything that's happened in the last few days.

"Aren't you two always together?" he asks, looking from me to her and back, shrugging as he goes back to pacing.

"We're engaged," I grin at him, feeling just a bit like rubbing it in, and, I will admit, hoping for a reaction when I say it. Sid stops, looks at me, and then turns and paces towards Carmen for a stop or two, tilting his head to one side.

"She's not wearing a ring," he says, turning his narrowed eyes back at me.

"We haven't made it out of the apartment, or at least I haven't," Carmen yawns and gazes sleepily at him as she stretches her long arms over her head, making her ample chest rise enticingly and then giggling. "He _has_ to go too practice apparently."

"Oh well…congratulations then," Sid nods at her and then holds his hand out to me. "Congrats man, she's…a great catch."

"I know," I grin back at him, accepting his hand and giving it a bone crushing shake that leaves him staring down at his hand and then looking up at me, annoyed.

"So…I need your advice," he repeats, falling back into the cushions on the sofa and dropping his head into his hands.

"My advice?" I look down at him incredulously and then turn to glance at Carmen who rolls her eyes again.

"He's talking about Jen," she says, folding the paper and pushing her chair away from the table and walking over to me and sliding her arm around my waist. "What's going on with you two _now_?" Sid looks up at her from beneath the brim of his cap, his lips pursed, and I'm shocked to see dark bags under his eyes.

"She won't talk to me. She won't return my calls. She won't even return my texts. I've sent flowers, I don't know what she wants me to do. I don't get why she's so upset. You have to talk to her Carmen, you have to explain to her that I don't have time for all this fucking drama." I feel Carmen tense beside me and then she moves away and I watch with a good deal of trepidation as she walks over to sit beside him on the sofa.

"First of all, what makes you think she'd even talk to me at all now that she knows?" she asks, glancing up at me with a look that I think is supposed to be reassuring but doesn't quite feel that way, not with him in the room anyway.

"Well she won't talk to me," he grumbles, looking at her with this puppy dog look that makes me want to go over and sit between them.

"Maybe now isn't the time for you to be trying to work at something like this, and believe me, you have to work at it," I offer, and Carmen smiles up at me and suddenly I feel like the good guy, the guy that's winning. Sid glares up at me, like that's the last thing he wanted to hear but Carmen reaches over and pats his knee.

"Jarkko's right. You have a lot of responsibilities right now, maybe you're not in the right space to be trying to make something work," she smiles gently at him, reaffirming what I've said as he glares at both of us.

"I love her, okay? I can't just forget about this. I can't…I don't want to do this without her behind me right now. I've blown off my parents, pissed off Mario…," he sighs and shakes his head. "She just doesn't get that I've done all that. She doesn't understand what it means," he grumbles, dropping his head back into his hands.

"Well…," Carmen bites at her bottom lip and looks up at me with this look that tells me that whatever she's about to say, he isn't going to like. "Maybe you're just not ready for a relationship at all. I mean…what you did…to me…," her voice trails off as she glances up at me for reassurance.

"She's right, trying to take Carmen from me wasn't your most mature moment," I add, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice, reminding myself that after all she chose me, and whatever that was between them is over now.

"I explained that," Sid glances over at Carmen and then up at me. "I know it was stupid but…I was trying to protect her."

"Trying to protect yourself you mean," Carmen reaches over and grabs his hand between hers' and I have to tell myself that we're here as his teammate and friend, that her gesture doesn't mean more than that but still my chest gets tight and I find that I'm clenching my teeth as I watch him look over at her. "You didn't trust her and you didn't give her a chance Sidney. Then…once you tell someone you love them…," her gaze turns up at me and the emotion in her eyes takes my breath away, "that's a huge commitment. You have to be a part of their lives and let them in yours. You have to share everything, let them see your good and your bad, let them be there for you, every single day."

She might be saying it to him, but I know she's saying it to me too and I actually feel tears welling up in my eyes as she smiles up at me. She loves me. She loves _me_, not the hockey player, not the team mate of Sidney Crosby, not the brother of Finnish Bachelor of the Year Tuomo. She loves me.

She must be crazy.


	25. Chapter 25

C25

"I'll have that twenty now," Biggs laughs and wiggles his fingers in front of my face as I stare up at the disappointment in Sidney's eyes as the Flyers toss yet another puck behind Fleury. With a sigh, I dig into my pocket and pull out the twenty I didn't think I'd be giving up.

"I can't believe you bet against the home town team," I mutter unfolding the bill and holding it above my head for him to take.

"Like taking candy from a baby," Biggs chuckles, sniffing the green bill like it's a Cuban cigar and grinning to himself.

"It's all your fault, I hope you know that," Rick snickers as he tosses one of the seat cushions from the couch at me. "Whatever he did to make him send all those flowers, just forgive him already, or I'll take out a full page add in the gazette telling the whole city that it's your fault."

"You can do that, or we can turn the station house into a flower shop," the Captain laughs, patting my shoulder as he gets up to walk away from the game too.

"You don't have to keep accepting the deliveries," I mutter, sinking lower into the couch and wishing that everyone I worked with didn't know about me and Sid the Kid. "You don't see me rushing out to sign for them."

"Yeah but we're all living vicariously through you. I mean, it's almost like we're all dating a famous guy. Speaking of which, hey does your dad know about you and the Kid?" Rick asks, giving me a hard poke in the arm that makes me wince and rub at it like that's going to take the sting away.

"No, why?" I glare at him, trying to let him know that I don't appreciate this particular line of questioning.

"Because your brother's here," he grins at me, and then makes a quick exit, leaving me sitting alone in front of the TV to watch the Wings celebrate their game one victory.

"Hey, did someone else…you know…kick it?" Daryl asks quietly, peering around at the dozen or so vases filled with roses littering the station house.

"No," I mutter, sinking lower into the couch, hoping that the cushions will literally suck me in and let me disappear.

"Then…wait…do I wanna know?" he asks, a big mischievous toothy grin on his face that reminds me a little too much of someone else and makes my chest tight. Giving him the 'shut up' narrowing of my eyes, I climb off the couch and head out into the warm evening air, stretching out my tense muscles that only tightened more and more as the game wore on. "So, you missed Sunday dinner last week and Mom wants to know if you'll be coming tomorrow. She was pretty upset Jen," he adds, following me outside.

"I'm working D," I shrug, ignoring the implication altogether.

"Dad said you haven't given the AI office an answer," he continues as I start to climb the tower at the side of the building, the one we use for training, the one they make us run up in full gear with a full hose, with breathing equipment on. Normally I hate the thing, but it gets us away from the rest of the guys.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to come off the rig," I shrug again, realizing how monosyllabic I'm being and thinking how like my dad I can be sometimes.

"A couple months ago you were," he points out, easily keeping pace with me, even turning to go up the stairs ahead of me backwards, partially to show that he's better than me, and partially to watch me.

"If mom sent you to spy on me," I grumble, shaking my head at him, "you should tell her she should send Keegan next time."

"Keegan has a hot date, and you haven't answered my question," he continues, grinning down at me.

"What question was that?" I ask quietly, reaching the top of the stairs and walking over to the ledge and sliding up to sit on it, looking out over the city, listening to the sounds, the honking and the rush of traffic, looking at the lights twinkling in the distance.

"Will you be coming for dinner tomorrow or…will you be otherwise occupied?" he asks, leaning against the half wall next to me. I can feel his gaze burrowing into the side of my head as I purposefully continue to gaze out at the city as I do my best to ignore him.

"I don't know," I shrug.

"I mean, it was one thing, after the accident," he continues carefully, keeping his voice even, low, like he's talking to someone who might bite, and the way he's got me cornered, he might be right. "You know Mom understand about stuff like that, but uh…it's been a while now and uh…she worries you know."

"I know, and I said I don't know, I mean, I guess I probably will be there, is that good enough?" I ask, shrugging and making a mental note to tell my mother to call instead of sending my big brother to check on me.

"Would your not being sure have anything to do with the rumors running around the houses about you?" I glance over at my older brother and narrow my eyes at him.

"Rumors?" I repeat, through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, rumors. You know, when all the guys are speculating about stuff," he continues nonchalantly, but as usual, my big brother can't stop that little smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he teases me.

"And just what are they speculating about?" I hiss, crossing my arms defensively across my chest.

"Not so much _what _but _who_," he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at me like this is somehow funny. "Oh c'mon sis, don't look like that. You know how the guys are, we have nothing better to do than sit around and gossip."

"I _do_ know," I sigh, rolling my eyes. "What I don't know is what they're saying about me."

"Is it true that a certain young and highly celebrated young hockey star picked you up from the hospital the night that uh…that Jason uh…," his voice trails off as my teeth begin to grind together.

"And if it is?" I hiss, feeling my cheeks begin to burn as my brother's grin gets bigger.

"So it's true you're dating Sid the Kid?" he asks, his grin widening, looking all proud, like he's just struck gold or something.

"No," I answer quickly, shrugging a single shoulder and then turning back to look at the city. I can almost hear the wheels turning in my brother's head as he tries to make my answer fit the information he has. If it had been my younger brother Keegan, he'd know immediately, in fact, he probably wouldn't have had to ask so many questions, but it's Daryl, and he's not the smartest one in the family.

"Wait…are all those flowers down there for you?" he asks, and I can practically see the light bulb going on over his head as I turn to look at him, neither confirming nor denying the truth of the matter as I just stare at him. "Does dad know?" he asks, his lips twitching as he tries not to laugh as images of what happened to the last guy that my father found out had been 'defiling' his little princess.

"No, and you had better keep it to yourself. Nothing's going on anyway. I broke it off, okay?" I stare at him with a threat clear in my eyes until he nods.

"Huh, is that why they lost?" he asks, looking sullen, like I've taken away his cookie. I lean over and punch him as hard as I can and he doesn't so much as wince, shrugging it off like it's nothing more than a mosquito bite and then laughing when I try to hit him again and he dances out of the way and then running for the stairs when I let out a low threatening growl.

* * *

"Jen I uh…this sucks, not being able to see you. I just uh…wanted to talk, or just…see you. I got schooled out there. I uh…I don't even know if you saw it. Maybe you're at the house or uh…shit," I curse quietly as I stare at the picture taken that first night we met, at the awards ceremony. Even in the picture I can see the way I was looking at her. I'd never felt that way for anyone right away. Sure I've had my share of one night stands, I'm sure all the guys on the team, maybe with the exception of Gonch and Gary are probably notorious at most of the local clubs by now, but with Jen it had been different. "Look I know you're uh…you're mad and uh…," I bite down on my lip and try and think of some different way to say this but in the end Carmen's words come back to me. "I just wanted to talk…I mean uh…right now the person I want to talk to is you so um…," I take a deep breath and close my eyes, like somehow that's going to make it easier for me to say. "I miss you Jen, and um…I love you so…okay goodnight," I mumble, closing my phone and lay back in the hotel bed and stare at the ceiling.

It's bad enough without Army. I know my dad is down the hall, and I could go down and talk to him, but he's not going to be able to take away the hurt tonight. Even Bugsy has gone down to the hotel bar to avoid my funk. Not that he's in a better mood. I don't think any of us are feeling on top of the world tonight. I just don't think any of them feel like their world is unraveling.

I don't remember missing anyone quite like this before at least not since I was pretty young and I was missing my mom. Somehow this is worse, because I brought it on myself. I have no one else to blame. At least with the game, there's enough blame to share around. But with Jen…

I miss the way the curve of her neck smells. I miss the way she shivers when I kiss the nape of her neck. I miss the way she laughs. I miss her smile.

I miss her.


	26. Chapter 26

C26

"I need a drink," I mutter, slinging my suit bag over my shoulder as we get off the bus outside the Igloo in the dark of the night.

"What's up with that Ruuts? I thought you had a woman to go home to," Gonch chuckles, but instead of the usual good natured sound, his voice, like mine, sounds hollow and tired.

"If I go home to her in this mood I'll just pick a fight," I sigh, digging in my pocket for the keys to my Infiniti.

"So what you're saying is you'd rather start a fight in a bar?" Georges laughs, cracking his first smile in two days. "Sounds fun, count me in,"

"Do you think that's such a good idea?" Gonch asks quietly. "I mean, the first person that walks up to you and asks why we played so badly…."

"I'll give him Therrien's home number," I reply gruffly, bouncing my keys in the palm of my hand. "So who's coming?"

"Just us old guys?" Gary asks, throwing his arms around mine and Gonch's shoulders and we all laugh.

"Yeah, no skirt chasing, just drowning our sorrows," Georges adds, falling into step with us, his big easy grin almost as bright as the street light.

* * *

I had an idea he might show up, somewhere in the back of my consciousness I must have known, I'd been lying awake staring at the ceiling for hours, and wasn't the least bit surprised to hear the low purr of an engine in my drive way.

My hands shake as I slide the dead bolt open and unhook the chain, and when I open the door to find him leaning there, still in his suit from the plane, staring down at his shoes, his curls falling onto his pale forehead, his lips pressed together in an angry line, all the angry words die in my throat. He doesn't need to tell me what's put that look on his face, doesn't need to tell me why he's here. I know. I watched the game and I can't imagine how disappointed he is.

That is, until he looks up at me, and all the hurt and anger burning in his eyes makes me weak at the knees and then it's just like the old days between us, no words, only lips and tongues, teeth and the urgent press of flesh as he pushes me up against the wall, slamming the door shut behind us. My lips open beneath his, our teeth clicking as his tongue claims mine, curling around it, sending ripples of pleasure through my body, destroying the last vestiges of my defenses so when his hands push my robe down past my shoulders and his lips and teeth claim my nipples, I'm left to do nothing but hold onto him and berate myself internally for being so weak.

But then all thoughts fly out of my head altogether as he lifts his eyes to me, and they're swimming with tears. I know that there are only a handful of people he would allow to see those tears. I know what it costs him to allow those tears to fall. I know how vulnerable he is at this moment, and how much I could hurt him by sending him away.

Except I don't and I don't want to. Instead, I gather him in my arms and just hold him, neither of us needing to say a single word.

* * *

"So is it too early to start talking about next year yet?" Gary asks, staring down into the bottom of his drink.

"Next season…yeah I wonder where we'll all be?" Georges muses, tossing another handful of peanuts down his throat. "God knows this organization can't afford to ice this team again."

"Have you had any of those 'secret offers'?" Gonch looks straight at me, his eyebrow raised, and he doesn't have to add the 'you know what I'm talking about' for me to know that it's implied.

"Through my brother," I nod back at him, tossing the rest of my beer down my throat and signaling for another.

"Tempting?" Gonch asks, his cool gaze searching my face. It's funny, last season we didn't get on so well, but I've grown to like these guys, even though it makes me one of the old codgers to hang out with them, and maybe down the road, we'll hang out and have barbeques and our kids will play together. Who knows?

"Yeah, I guess it is, sort of. I don't know, I haven't really thought hard on it," I reply, shrugging as I hold up a folded bill for the bartender to take as he puts a sud soaked pint in front of me.

"What is this? Some kind of secret society?" Gary leans over and look at me with his eye narrowed and I grin to think of how scary that look is on the ice.

"They're talking about the Russian league," Georges sighs, tapping his now empty glass on the bar. "You know, the one Chris Simon just signed on to," he adds with a nod.

"I say good riddance to that guy," Gary smiles, raising a glass, and even though Georges' glass is still empty, he raises his as well in salute to one guy that none of us will miss. "So the Russian super league huh? This is the same one that Jagr was making noises about going to?"

"Sure, he'd be the biggest star over there," Gonch nods sagely. "They're offering lots of money."

"Guys like you would be a big star over there too. Guys like Geno," I shrug, because it doesn't need to be said that they'd love him to go back home and make the league even better and I'm not sure, but I wouldn't put it past Geno to think about it either.

"What do you mean guys like that?" Gonch chuckles. "If you went back there, you might be second line, maybe even first line. That's something to think of isn't it?" I nod, because as soon as Tuomo brought it up, that was my first thought. It would be better than sitting out half the season. I want to play, that's why I'm here. I was supposed to get more ice time than I had in Vancouver. That's was the _only _reason I'd left. It just hasn't worked out for me, until the last couple of months that is.

"But it's not just you that you have to think about anymore is it?" Georges smiles knowingly at me, as if he can read my next thought.

"No," I sigh, "and I'm the one who asked her for a commitment and now I've gone and agreed to marry her," I have to shake my head at myself. "I don't think this is what she thinks she's signing up for."

* * *

I don't remember setting out to see Jen. All I knew when I got off that plane was that I did not want to go home. Not to have Mario pacing, looking at me with disappointment in his blue eyes, and questioning what had gone wrong and what needed to be improved. Nor did I want to go to Max's or Fleur's where they would be trying very hard not to deal with our disastrous two games against Detroit. I had enough going on in my head without dealing with either of those two situations.

But eventually I did find my way to her door and once I'd pointed my headlights into her driveway, it just seemed right that I would eventually go to her. She was almost the only thing I'd been able to think of. Not that my mind wasn't on the games or what we had to do, just once I wasn't on the ice, she was almost the only thing I could think of that would make me smile, and she hadn't even spoken to me in nearly two weeks.

I didn't know what kind of reception I'd receive when I knocked, and I wasn't even worried that it was the middle of the night. I was only concerned that once I'd decided where I needed to be, she'd throw me back out into the night.

But she didn't. Her gaze searched mine for one long moment, and I didn't see any of the anger or spite I'd expected to see. Instead, her gaze softened and I thought I could see just the hint of a smile tug at the corners of her lips, and then that was all I could see, her lips, and they were my entire world.

At least for a blissful moment or two, and then the thought that she was only taking pity on me nearly brought me to my knees, and then the world came crashing in around me.

It was only her arms that held me upright, her body wrapped around mine that stopped me from spinning apart, her soft words that talked me down off the ledge.

And then it was her hand taking mine and leading me down that hall, her soft hands slowly stripping me out of my suit, down to my boxers, somehow not making it seem as if I were some kind of child, just that she cared, that somehow she knew I needed her then, that I couldn't do this for myself.

Then it was her quiet but insistent words of encouragement as she slid under the covers next to me and held me until I fell asleep. The safety of her arms let me dream of hoisting the Cup again. Her warm body tucked next to mine that let me sleep until the warm rays of the late Spring sun woke me, warm and safe and contented; the nightmare of the last few days behind me.

She looks so peaceful, lying there next to me as I roll to face her, her eyelashes lying on the round of her cheek, her dark hair falling over her shoulder in a loose braid, her full lips slack with sleep. Lying there, listening to her deep even breathing, I feel finally, almost, peaceful myself, and I wish that I could watch her sleep for days.

Maybe it's just wishful thinking. After all, I don't know what she'll do when she opens those dark eyes again. Maybe last night she felt sorry for me, but today…today we might be back to fighting again, she might be back to keeping her distance. The thought of her asking me to leave makes me want to sneak out just so I don't have to see her peaceful face contorted in anger again. I don't think I can take any more negativity right now.

"It's hard to sleep with you staring at me," she mutters with her eyes still closed, her lips curling up into a smile.

"I didn't want to wake you," I reply quietly, tensing, waiting for her to ask me to go.

"You used to like to wake me up in the morning," she yawns, stretching and arching her back, brushing the sheets aside, revealing her golden body in all its' glory to my hungry eyes. When I finally manage to drag my gaze away from her smooth skin and back up to her eyes, the patience and the tenderness I see there make it hard for me to breathe.

"But…but um you…," I can only shrug, hoping she understands what I'm trying to ask as I chew on my lip waiting for her answer.

"I've missed you too Sidney," she whispers, closing the gap between us and offering me her soft lips as she slides her hand gently into my boxers to grasp my quickly swelling cock. Moaning into her mouth, I roll her over, feeling her body soft and pliant beneath mine and all I can think is, I don't deserve this, she deserves better than this, but at the same time I'm whispering a thousand 'thank you's' into her ear as I nudge her thighs apart.

Like a miracle, her body opens for me like a gift and fits me like a glove and together we begin to move in the slow dance that we know so well, but feels new, feels right, feels too good for words and chases away all of the ugliness in my head and leaves me with only her smile, her eyes full of soft morning light and something that looks like but I dare not believe is love.

* * *

"Where have you been?" she asks, hiding a yawn behind her hand as she struggles to sit up, her long legs tossed carelessly over one side, a pillow hugged to her torso, her cheek pressed against the back of the chair.

"Sorry, I went out with the guys and I guess I lost track of time," I sigh and lean back against the door, watching her as she stretches her arms over her head, making those little kitten noises as she arches her back and yawns again.

"But I stayed up," she complains in a tired little voice, her full bottom lip jutting out as she turns her pouting lips up to mine as I move towards her. Dropping a kiss on her soft lips, I slide my fingers into her hair and deepen the kiss, searching her mouth with my tongue as I climb into the chair with her. Pulling her into my lap, I let her feel that I've been thinking about her all this time, hoping she won't stay mad. "Mmm, you _did_ miss me," she giggles as we come up for air, and I gaze up at into her eyes and smile.

"You have no idea," I mumble as I watch her slide down my lap, her long pale fingers deftly undoing my fly as she settles on her knees in front of me, licking her pink lips and turning those obsidian eyes up at me as her fingers wrap around my quickly hardening dick. "Carmen I wanted to talk to you about something," I mumble, hardly able to articulate the words as she slides her red lips over the head of my dick, her pointed tongue raising a fire in my loins.

"You need to relax," she grins up at me, only removing her lips from around my cock long enough to smile up at me before she goes back to licking and sucking me into oblivion. "I could see it when you were on the bench, too tense," she mumbles, her mouth full, but a grin on her face all the same, making me wonder what she won't do for me, which makes me almost sick to my stomach with guilt.

"You don't need to do this," I mumble, stroking her hair absentmindedly as she takes me deeper, sliding my dick to the back of her throat.

"Like to," she grins, sliding her tongue up from the base and swirling it around the now very engorged head of my cock, making my eyes roll back in my head.

"But I need to talk to you," I groan, gripping the arms of the chair and taking deep breaths to stop myself from cumming right away.

"Later," she humms, making my entire body shudder in response.

"Okay, later," I agree, letting my head fall back and my eyes close, concentrating on her hot tongue, her warm mouth and her tight grip as she brings me closer and closer to the edge of sanity.


	27. Chapter 27

C27

"What…what's this for?" I ask, feeling the heat immediately rising to my face as I open the door to find him standing on my doorstep peeking over an armful of flowers.

"Thank you?" He sounds tentative, his gaze wary and he doesn't make a move to come inside. Odd, considering we'd spent the last two days solid in bed together.

"For…?" I lean in the doorway, letting the shoulder of my black satin robe fall until it's almost scandalous enough to get me arrested, but lucky for me my front door isn't visible from the street.

"We won," he states simply, but his eyes are trained on the lily white half moon of my breast peeking above the dark fabric, and I watch as he begins gnawing nervously on his full bottom lip.

"And?" I smile, toying with the sash on my robe, tugging ever so gently on it, until my robe begins to loosen, and I'm rewarded by a cough and the widening of his eyes.

"You helped me relax, helped me focus," he stutters, and I can see how hard he has to work to drag his attention up from my cleavage to my satisfied grin.

"Well, if that's what it takes," I sigh dramatically, tugging the sash hard enough to cause my robe to fall open, "I guess I'm willing to take one for the team."

"Damn," he hisses, looking down at the flowers in his arms and then back at me.

"I get hay fever anyway," I laugh, stepping aside to let him in as he drops the bouquet on the ground and he reaches for me instead, pulling me into his arms and covering my lips with his, kissing me hard as he maneuvers me into the hall, kicking the door shut behind us as his tongue wraps around mine.

"Wait, wait," he breathes, pulling himself away from me, "what's changed?"

"You want to talk? Now?" I chuckle, running my hand down between us to cup his erection through his pants, raising my eyebrow in query.

"You were mad," he insists, his breath catching in his throat when I give him a gentle but insistent squeeze.

"I'm over it," I whisper, leaning in to nip at his full bottom lip. "You came to me, you needed me," I add, running my hand up under the soft material of his t-shirt. "Just keep remembering that and we'll be fine." My reply makes the question begin to fade from his eyes, but not entirely. "You make me feel a woman, and you're the first man in my life that lets me be a girl and still lets me be in charge sometimes," I add with a playful smile. "That's too important to lose, and I've decided I'm willing to fight for that," I add, touching my lips gently to his and then look up into his caramel gaze and see the questions in his eyes disappear, quickly replaced with something more feral, more wild, and then with a grin he presses his lips over mine and before nibbling his way down to my neck where his teeth dig in hard enough to cause my nails to dig into his shoulders and my next breath to be drawn through clenched teeth.

"God, all I've been able to think of since I got off the ice was this," he whispers, his lips trailing up to my ear, his teeth tugging at my earlobe before sliding back down to the curve of my shoulder before digging in again. "I thought the press conference was never going to end."

"As long as it wasn't _during_ the game," I hiss, quivering under his exploring fingertips, my body arching to meet his, pressing down against his hand as it slides between my thighs. As his fingers find the spot that turns my knees to gelatin, I grip his shoulders tight and bury my face in his neck, whimpering his name as he slides his fingers up into me, thrusting harder with every submissive sound I make.

"In the shower," he whispers, his new, thicker sideburns tickling my cheek. "I started thinking about you, it could have been embarrassing," he adds as he leads my hand back down to his erection.

"Is that all I am?" I tease, pulling his zipper down and sliding my hand inside.

"Noooo," he moans, his hands gently cupping my cheeks as his lips hover over mine. "I love you," he whispers, his gaze looking deeply into mine, deadly serious. "I want you, I need you but mostly, right now, I love you," he whispers, touching his lips gently to mine. My heart pumping hard against my ribs, I smile at him and curl my fingers around the thick solidness of his cock.

"Mmmm I think right now, mostly you want me," I chuckle, sliding my hand slowly down to the base of his dick and then down to cup the soft heaviness of his testicles.

"Yessssssssss," he sighs, his eyes rolling back in his head as I roll his balls in my hand.

"Well, I guess you have been a good boy," I grin, kissing my way down his thick muscular neck, letting go of his cock to push his t-shirt up over his abdomen, kissing my way up his chest as I do, licking and nibbling my way back up to his shoulders, and then down again, pausing to pay special attention to the hard pink buds of his nipples, rolling my tongue around them, flicking them and nibbling them until he groans and pushes my shoulders down, pushing me towards his swollen cock that is standing at full mast, begging for my special attention.

Kneeling before him and licking my lips, I slide my hand down to the base, my other hand sliding down under his balls, to that soft smooth spot behind them that makes him groan louder. Looking up at him, watching his dark waves falling into his forehead, his cinnamon coloured eyes hooded with desire gazing down at me, I slide my lips over his cock, my tongue swirling around the head of it, tasting pre-cum and humming just to make him shudder.

Lacing his fingers in my hair, he closes his eyes and fucks my mouth gently, his hips swaying rhythmically as his dick slides over my tongue and lightly bumps the back of my throat. I let him continue, squeezing and massaging his balls and pumping the base of his dick until the sticky sweetness fills my mouth, and then with a grin, I lick him clean, ignoring his whimper of protest as I lick and suck the still purple head of his cock until his cock begins to harden again.

"Twenty," I grin up at him, flicking my tongue into the now shiny divot just to see him squirm. "What a wonderful age." I let him pull me up, and with a giggle, let him chase me to my bedroom.

"Honey I'm home!" his voice fills the apartment and puts a smile on my face. Turning off the TV and dropping the remote, I run to the door, jumping up into his outstretched arms and pressing kisses all over his face.

* * *

"You won! You _won_!" I squeal, pressing my lips to his forehead, cheeks, and lastly his full soft lips, feeling his hand cup my ass and wrap around my back as he walks down the hall, where he deposits me on the bed and stands over me, grinning.

"Fuck that felt good!" he smiles, producing a bottle of champagne in one hand and unwrapping the foil from around the cork with the other.

"If this is what you do when you win _one_ game, I can't wait to see what you do when you win another game," I laugh, propping myself up on my elbows and grinning up at him.

"I'm _so_ not finished celebrating," he smiles, and the wicked promise in his eyes sends a shiver of anticipatory pleasure.

"Really? What do you have planned?" I ask, feeling breathless as he pops the top of the champagne, and upends it into his mouth, the bubbles pouring down his chin, putting all number of x-rated images in my head.

"Oh, I have plans," he grins, wiping his forearm across his mouth and offering the bottle to me at the same time. I take it thankfully, my mouth having gone dry about the time his hands slid to my ass, but as soon as the bottle reaches my mouth, he undoes the top two buttons of his shirt and then pulls it over his head, baring his sculpted chest, and to make matters worse, once he's dropped his shirt to the floor, he runs his hand down his chest, slowing his fingers as they reach his goody trail, his green gaze holding mine captive as he toys with the zipper on his suit pants. "This?" he grins, rubbing his hand suggestively down over the growing bulge in his pants that my gaze is glued to. "You want this?"

"Please?" I whimper, biting down on my bottom lip as his hand slides along the width of his cock where it presses against the fabric of his pants.

"If you're a good girl," he smiles, undoing the zipper achingly slowly, and I find my eyes glued to the gleaming steel, my mouth going dry again as he slowly slides his pants down over his hips, looking as sexy as any Chippendales dancer. No…sexier. I manage, just for a moment, to tear my gaze away from the growing bulge in his boxer briefs and slide my gaze up to his eyes.

"I think helping relax you before the game counts as being a good girl," I offer, reaching down to struggle out of my jeans.

"Oh that helped," he nods, reaching forward to help me, dragging my ass to the edge of the bed, reaching for the champagne and dragging my jeans off in one powerful pull, turning them inside out and dropping them on top of his shirt while he steps out of his pants. With a giggle I go to pull off my t-shirt, but it's only half way off when I feel the cold splash of champagne on my stomach, and as the bubbles begin to dribble south, he drops to his knees and pulls my thighs over his shoulders and dives in, one long deliberate swipe of his tongue sending me howling towards the edge.

Digging my fingers into the covers, I close my eyes and lie back, whimpering and moaning as he does the thing he does second best in the world…or maybe third, when he's doing this it's hard for me to think straight, and the longer he works at it, the less able I am to make sense of anything, and the more I begin to think maybe this is what he should have a gold medal for. Not that I should be surprised, his tongue gets plenty of exercise yapping it up on the ice but….Screw the Stanley Cup. He should have an award for how many times he can make me cum with his teeth and tongue.

Quivering, whimpering, tears blurring my vision, and having lost count of how many times shooting stars and fireworks have gone off in my head, I barely realize he's kneeling on the bed between my legs until I feel his cock slide inside me and I look up to see him grinning.

"You win?" I squeak, my body boneless beneath his as he begins to move slowly, pumping in and out of me with his green eyes roaming over me greedily.

"I couldn't wait to drink from the cup," he grins, reaching for the bottle again and upending it onto my chest, pouring it slowly over one breast, across my chest and over the other. Then, with a mischievous grin, he leans forward, sweeping his tongue over my nipple, sucking and licking until I arch my back and push against him, and then he moves to the other, and as he pulls at my nipple between his teeth, my entire body begins to shudder and I hear myself screaming his name.

* * *

"I needed that," I groan, rolling onto my back and sighing out loud as she giggles and curls up against my side, her cheek resting my chest as she looks up at me with that contented cat that got the cream sort of look.

"I can't believe you can play that hard for three periods, do the press scrum _and_ a press conference and then do that, _three_ times," she sighs, running her index finger down the middle of my chest and down to my belly button, making me squirm.

"Plus the hallway," I remind her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and dropping my lips to her forehead. "Like you said, twenty," I add with a grin.

"Of course being a professional athlete doesn't hurt," she grins up at me, offering me her soft lips for a long slow kiss before she cuddles back into me. "And fireman think they have stamina," she sighs under her breath. Like a bucket of cold water's been dropped on me, I pull myself up and turn to her, searching her eyes.

"You're not…with anyone else? Tell me you aren't…you don't…," I search her gaze that is firstly shocked and then she begins to giggle as she rolls her eyes at me. "What?"

"I love you Sidney," she smiles, her gaze going soft as she reaches up for me and runs her fingers down my cheek, running the back of her hand back and forth across my chin and making her face. "I love you, just you. And it's not nice to accuse a lady of being a whore," she sighs, gritting her teeth.

"Sorry," I glance away, my cheeks heating from embarrassment. "I shouldn't accuse you of…that," I whisper. Her hand slides up my cheek and around to the nape of my neck, making me meet her gaze. "I guess…I guess I'm jealous," I admit quietly.

"Oh Sidney," she sighs, the flash of anger that had just been in her eyes fades as I look over at her. "Tell that chubby little boy inside your head that you're a god and I am here to worship at your altar," she whispers, pulling my lips down to hers and kissing me thoroughly, until all the jealous thoughts flee my head. "When are you going to let that go? You never were that chubby kid you think you are. You're amazing, on _and_ off the ice," she whispers against my lips.

"I…I…," I want to argue but nothing comes out when I look down to the sweet yet playful look in her eyes, I feel a huge lump form in my throat. I don't know how she knows. I don't remember ever telling anyone about those voices in my head, about the way the kids in my home town teased me, about the names the guys on the team at Shattuck St. Mary's used to call me. No matter how many girls call my name at the games, no matter how many times women throw themselves at me, I always hear those voices, I've always felt like they couldn't _really_ want me, the little fat geeky kid with the big teeth. But no woman has ever looked at me the way she is looking at me now, and it makes an enormous lump form in my throat. "I love you," I whisper, touching her cheek gently with my fingertips, and pressing my lips gently over hers'.

"I love you," she whispers, pulling me down over her and wrapping her soft warm body around mine, offering her self to me like a gift, and for once I accept whole heartedly.

* * *

"Holy. Fucking. Shit!" she moans, lying flat on her back and staring up at the ceiling. "Now _that_ is what I call celebrating!" she giggles, turning her head to look at me where I'm lounging beside her, toying with the mostly empty champagne bottle. I gaze down at her marble white skin, at her ebony hair fanned out across the pillow, at the pink peaks of her nipples like maraschino cherries on a mountain of whip cream, and I can't help but grin. How did I get so fucking lucky?

"Tired yet?" I ask, watching the rise and fall of her chest as she tries to catch her breath, noticing the glimmer of sweat in the valley between her ample breasts, or is that still the sticky sweet glisten of champagne? Leaning over, I nuzzle her breasts, licking and sucking the remaining liquid clinging to her skin until she lets out a long low sigh and guides my hand down between her thighs, where there's another type of sweet slick warmth. "I guess that's a no?"

"I don't know that I'll ever get tired of you," she mumbles, her obsidian eyes fluttering closed as she bites down on her bottom lip as I gently stroke her clit and lick my way around her hard little nipple.

"You don't know how happy that makes me," I whisper, kissing my way up her neck to her ear and inhaling the strawberry kissed scent of her skin mixed with jasmine in her hair, which somehow mixes perfectly with the heavy scent of sex in the air. "I loved watching you ride me," I whisper as she squirms beneath the pressure of my fingers and my hand. "I love watching your breasts bounce, I love watching your pussy juices flowing down my cock," I continue, hearing the kitten sounds beginning in her throat as the pressure of the orgasm begins to build. "I wonder how many times you can cum in a night? How many times can I make you cum?" I whisper, lowering my lips back down to the hard little pink pebbles and sucking one into my mouth as she continues to whimper and squirm. "You make me feel like a champion Carmen," I sigh as I lick my way across the valley between her breasts and lick my way to the top, swirling my tongue around her nipple, and then stopping, an amusing thought coming to mind. "Wait there, don't move," I grin, slipping off the bed and heading into the kitchen.

Peering into the fridge, I grab the two cans of aerosol whipped cream, one chocolate, one regular, and with a chuckle, begin to shake them as I walk back towards the bedroom. I watch with amusement and satisfaction as her eyes get wide and she lets out a happy little squeal as I upend one and pour chocolate whip cream into my mouth.

"Oh my god, I am _so_ hungry, I've worked up such an appetite doing….hey!" she squeals again as I nudge her thighs apart and press the nozzle, piling regular white whip cream onto the dark curls of the landing strip above her pussy. "Oh my god you're going to…again?" she squeaks, blinking rapidly as I lick my way down between her thighs.

"But it tastes so good," I grin up at her, this time piling the chocolate whip cream directly over the sweet rosebud of her clit and slowly licking it off while she squirms. "And you did say if we won I could do anything I wanted," I remind her, pouring more whip cream on the inside of her thigh and licking it off slowly, licking my way back up to her warm wet pussy and kissing her gently as she shudders and whimpers. "I love making you cum," I grin up at her. "The way you look at me when you're having an orgasm makes me feel like the best…well, just the best," I smile up at her, spraying chocolate whip cream into her navel and licking it out slowly.

"You are the best," she whispers, reaching forward and touching my cheek. "I don't ever want anyone but you, ever again. I love you, whether you win the cup or never play again or play in Russia, I don't care. I love you. I don't ever want to leave your side. You're perfect for me, and you are the best lover I've ever had," she adds with a playful grin, suddenly reaching for one of the aerosol cans and grabbing it away from me, spraying it into her mouth and giggling as I try and grab it from her, which only ends up with me on top of her, and both of us sticky with sweet whipped cream and then with her sweet, sweet lips on mine, where I want them to be, forever.


	28. Chapter 28

C28

It was certainly a different flight home tonight than it was the last time we flew back from Detroit. None of us can stop smiling. God it feels good. We earned that damn win and I should be exhausted, dead on my feet right now, but my mind is already racing ahead to getting home to Carmen and maybe that's why I don't hear Kennedy sneaking up on me as the doors open on the bus and the cool early morning air fills our lungs.

"Sorry kiddo, I wasn't ignoring you, I was just…thinking," I grin, dismissing the images of her pearly white skin against our black sheets, for now. "What were you saying?"

"I was just wondering if I could get a ride home?" he yawns, stretching his arms over his head and opening his mouth in a lion like roar. "Only I think I'm too tired to ride," he admits, blinking into the over head light of the dimly lit parking lot. We both look at his bike parked tightly against the Kid's Land Rover, so security will keep a close eye on it while we're gone, and I nod.

"That's probably a smart idea," I agree, digging for my keys deep in my pocket. "But you should probably roll it inside for the night," I add, to which he gives a toothy grin and heads off at a jog, something that makes me want to laugh. My legs still feel a bit like Jello I'm so tired, even after sitting for almost two hours between the bus and the plane, and that kid can still jog. Ah youth!

I feel the vibration of the beamer's engine coming to life through the steering wheel and watch the kids as they continue to chatter animatedly amongst themselves as they head to their cars. I guess I won't be the only one waking up my significant other for a quick romp before lights out.

Significant other…huh; sounds strange but _good _strange, like it comes out without having to force it. Reaching into my pocket I roll the velvet box over in my hand. Good old Tuomo, who knew he'd come in so handy about stuff like this?

"Thanks Ruuts," Kennedy grins as he scrambles into the car and reaches for the seat belt.

"No probs kiddo," I smile over at him. "Just one stop to make along the way."

"At this time in the morning?" he looks over at me incredulous as I pull the beamer out of the parking lot and head for the highway. "What's open besides 7-11 and triple x video stores?" he adds, blinking at me as I start to laugh.

"Well I hadn't thought about a video but it's not a bad idea," I laugh and shake my head as I imagine what Carmen's reaction might be, "but for what I need, a 7-11 will do just fine. Seatbelt on?" I add as I step on the gas and the car roars and noses down as it grips the cool street and heads for home.

* * *

I hear the door click shut. I can even hear him slipping out of his shoes as he tries for ninja-like silence. Smiling to myself, I pull the sheet up to my chin and turn over on my side, ignoring the dig of the boning under my arm, willing myself to hold still even as I listen to him creep across the carpet. But when I hear that familiar rattle of an aerosol can I turn over and look up at him, in surprise. Luckily I'm met with the same wide eyed look of surprise as he pulls the sheet away.

"You like?" I ask quietly as his green eyes sweep over the red and black lace corset and lace topped stockings.

"Is this what I get for winning?" he asks, kneeling on the edge of the bed, his gaze glued to the way my breasts spill over the top of corset, his tongue sweeping over his full bottom lip.

"For being the star of the overtime," I grin up at him, running my hand suggestively over my cleavage and then down my side, toying with the laces as I watch his gaze following my hand.

"I didn't score, Siggy did," he mumbles, a slow grin spreading across his face as his gaze goes from my hand back up to my cleavage and then to his own hand holding the aerosol whip cream.

"You almost did, more than once," I remind him, "and just to make you sure you're not frustrated by that," I tug at the laces, intending to undo them but his hand shoots out and stops me. "What?" I look up into his eyes to see the heat of passion yes, but something else too, something softer, something sweeter.

"Wait…," he whispers, his voice suddenly deeper as he licks his lips and blinks in the near darkness.

"What is it?" I ask, searching his gaze for some signal, some sign, but he just stares at me, swallowing deeply, his gaze unfocused. "C'mon, you can't tell me you're too tired, you're the one with the whip cream," I point out, reaching for the aerosol can which he surprisingly lets me take, and I can't help but think, too easily. "Jaks? You're starting to spook me," I whisper, something churning deep in my gut, a kind of warning, and that voice comes back, the one that keeps telling me the other shoe has to drop sometime, that it's just too good to be true, but I bite back the whimper of uncertainty and wait, praying I'm not right.

"Will you still…if it comes to that, which it might not, but if it did, would you still come with me to Russia?" he asks, his voice sounding dry and tight as he reaches for my hand, taking it in his and running his thumb rhythmically across the back of my hand in a way that makes me think it's as much for his comfort as mine.

"Do you honestly think after the way you've been playing that it will come to that? Hell you made Geno look good out there. I'm sure you're going to get offers, I mean even Vancouver…," he stops me with a soft kiss to my forehead, his free fingertips pressing gently to my lips.

"But if it _did_?" he asks again, kneeling beside the bed as he pulls me to the edge of the mattress.

"You know I would," I insist, feeling panic rising in my chest like a caged bird fluttering its wings against my ribs. "I said I would, I came here didn't I?"

"I know you did," he smiles, brushing a stray hair back from my cheek and then laying his palm flat against my cheek and running his thumb along my cheekbone. Oh god. I can hear it in my head already, the way he's looking at me, it's almost sad. He's going to do it. He's going to say 'it's not you it's me'. He's going to tell me he wants me to stay in school, forget him…. "I can't believe you came all this way for me. I can't believe a woman as smart and as strong as you are could love someone like me," he whispers, leaning in to press his full lips softly over mine, and all those negative thoughts disappear as he deepens the kiss, as his tongue sweeping over mine, as his hands slide through my hair, pulling me to him, kissing me until neither of us can breathe and we have to come up for air. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, kissing my cheeks, my eyelids, my forehead and back down again to my lips where he presses his gently again. "I can't believe how lucky I am right now, having you to come home to, playing for the Stanley Cup, this is what I always wanted. The only thing that would make it more perfect would be kids," he breathes, his green eyes searching mine earnestly.

"Kids?" I whisper against his lips as he moves in for another soft kiss.

"I know it's a lot to ask, you giving up your dream for mine, and follow me around and I promise, whenever I stop playing, I promise I'll pay for you to go back to school and I'll look after the kids, but…a whole mess of them, a whole hockey team, yours and mine. I want to come home to a bunch of them and toys all over the place and you…," his voice trails off as he registers the alarm that I can feel in my face and then he grins, and wraps his arms around me. "Nannies, I promise we'll have nannies too," he adds with a laugh as he pulls me onto the floor so I'm half kneeling, half sitting on his lap. "Say you will Carmen, please," he whispers, taking my hand in his bigger ones and pulling me gently against him so that I'm leaning into his chest, so that my head naturally fits in the curve of his neck. "Say you will," he repeats, producing a little blue velvet box from his pocket with a crushed metallic silver bow, and putting it in my hand. "I know you already asked me but…I guess I'm just old fashioned that way," he whispers, his arms sliding around me to hold me close. "Marry me Carmen, make me the happiest man in the world."

* * *

I can feel her pulse racing beneath my fingertips as I stroke my hand over her arm, and I feel her head snap up the moment I put the box in the palm of her hand. I know the turmoil she's feeling, I know that I'm asking a lot of her. I know she's afraid to have kids. We've talked about how cold and distant her parents were and how terrified she is of turning out to be that kind of parent. But I know she won't. I know who she is inside. I know how much love she has, how good she is, how smart, how funny. I know that I can help her through it, that together we can do anything.

I know because of how just having her in my life has changed my game. She's given me confidence. She's eased my worries, she's been the best cheerleader I've had since my own mom. I know that if she can do that for me, she'll be as good a mom as I had, maybe better and I can't wait for us to get started.

I watch her open the box with trembling hands, watch her run her fingers over the pillow cut diamond surrounded by emeralds. It's not just because it's her birthstone, it's to remind her of me, or at least that's what I thought when I saw the ring in the window at Tiffany's in New York. She always says my eyes are like emeralds.

"Oh my god, it's…beautiful," she whispers, taking the ring out of the box with shaking fingers. Gingerly I take the ring from her fingers and slide it slowly down her ring finger, giving it a gentle push to get it over her knuckle, and then wrap my hand around hers and hold it in front of us, so we can both get a good look at it.

"Now Sid can't say I haven't given you a ring," I grin, feeling her stiffen against me before I chuckle and lift her to her feet. "I don't care about him," I whisper, kissing her cheek as I turn her to face me. "I know you don't love anyone else, I'm over that, past it. I can't promise that I won't still get jealous now and again. I mean, damn, look at you," I let my gaze wander down to the cleavage spilling over the corset and down to her nipped in waist and even further down to her long, long legs. "Damn," I repeat again as my body responds to the stunning view before me.

"And it's all yours," she whispers, doing a slow pirouette that leaves my mouth dry and my body rock hard and straining toward her. "Come get me, stud," she giggles, kneeling on the bed, crawling away from me and batting her long eyelashes at me over her shoulder. With a growl, I do the only thing I can do, grab her hips, push her g-string aside and drop my pants, and in one movement, slam myself inside of her, to where it's safe and warm and fits like a glove.


	29. Chapter 29

C29

I'd gone to bed after the game, but lay awake, switching between tossing and turning and lying flat on my back staring at the ceiling. I knew how crushed he'd be right now, I knew without a doubt he would be the last player out of the arena. I knew too that he'd be dog tired, that all of the games would be catching up with him now, and that by the time he'd manage to struggle to his car, the last thing he'd want to do is talk to another human being.

What I wasn't sure of is whether he'd come to me now.

I used to look forward to him arriving in a temper. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy making love rather than just having sex, but there's something so satisfying about the adrenalin rush of a passion fueled by anger. It's like make up sex, and there's just nothing sweatier.

Not that I want him to lose. Being the youngest child and with all my siblings being brothers, I'm as competitive as they come, and I know how much Sid hates to lose but still, I'd be lying if I said I didn't like to be slammed up against a wall now and again. He's the only guy I've ever been with to take charge like that, to bend me to his will, and I have to admit, I like it.

But as I lie in the dark, staring up at the blank of the ceiling, something in the pit of my stomach tells me he won't come to me like that anymore. It's one thing to take out your frustrations on someone when they're just a fuck buddy, a booty call. But when you're supposed to be in love... well, something tells me he won't see it as the right thing to do, especially when we've agreed to talk things through, that he should come to me with things like this, that he can rely on me.

Which leads me to thinking about there being another woman taking my position as official booty call and _that _makes my skin crawl.

Of course I've thought about it before. When I was just the fuck buddy I had to face the fact that I might not be the only one he had. I had no claim on him, and he certainly didn't seem to have any emotional investment in me. I pretty much had to assume there had to be another woman, a girlfriend, or at least someone he liked in a more obvious way. Of course there had been Carmen but I hadn't known about her at the time.

Even thinking about that makes the bile rise in my throat. The thought of sharing him now…I shut my eyes tight against the idea. It makes my head hurt, not to mention my heart. It's bad enough that I have to listen to the guys at the firehouse speculating and gossiping about things they've heard or seen out at the clubs around town involving the Pens. It's even worse that I've caught myself going onto those awful sites, the ones where all the puck-bunnies rip into the likes of Fleur's Veronique, and although I don't know her yet, I imagine that just like me, the last thing she needs is someone debating the reasons behind her plastic surgery. As if it's all her decision and has nothing to do with any insecurities a very shy Marc Andre might have.

I wasn't so brave when they started in on me. I read one or two of the speculative posts before losing my nerve. If I'd thought they were vile in their dissection of Jordy and Fleur's girlfriends, they had not even begun to get out the claws until they were talking about me.

And I don't even know what will happen now that the seasons over. We haven't talked about it at all and I don't want to be the one to push.

Except that leaves me here, staring at the ceiling, wondering just where he is, and who with, and slowly but surely, making myself just a little crazier than I was when I crawled into bed, and so it's no wonder that I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear the key scratch in the lock, and my breath catches in my throat as I listen to his footsteps echoing in the dark empty house.

I freeze, shutting my eyes and rolling onto my side, facing away from the door and pretend to sleep. Not that I'm not partly relieved that he's here, but I'm also partly worried that what's coming is the 'it's been a slice' conversation that I keep hearing in the back of my mind. So I listen to the footfalls stop at the bedroom door, listen to his steady even breathing as I try to keep mine deep and low. I can feel him watching me, almost as if it's his hands roaming over my shoulders, the back of my neck and not his eyes and I have to suppress a shiver.

Finally I feel the bed dip as he sits down, and I can hear him toe off his dress shoes, the scrape of the soles as they slide on the floor. I listen to him folding his jacket, the click of his belt as it touches the iron rungs of the footboard, and then he just sits on the edge of the bed, breathing in and out slowly, deliberately, and I can feel the tension coming off of him in waves.

"You're not really asleep are you?" he asks, his voice low, but I can hear him clenching his teeth as hard as he's gripping the edge of the mattress. I stare straight ahead in the darkness, trying to figure out what they hell I'm really doing, but I don't get a chance to think through my answer before he slides between the sheets and presses the length of his body against mine, wrapping his arms around me and pressing his face into the curve of my neck, inhaling deeply, as if my scent were a drug and he's been craving it for hours. "Don't go cold on me now Jen," he whispers, the brush of his lips against the thin skin behind my ear sending a shudder down my spine, ripping a gasp from my mouth as his teeth nip at the curve of my shoulder. "I've been thinking, thinking too much," he whispers, grinding his growing erection into the small of my back, slipping his hand over my breast and tweaking the nipple between his fingers. "I don't want to think anymore. Take it away Jen, please," he begs, pushing me onto my stomach with his body pressing down over mine, his lips pressed lightly to the nape of my neck, his hands sliding down to my waist.

I vacillate for a moment between being ticklish and turned on, until he bumps the head of his now very hard cock between my legs, nudging at my opening as his teeth graze the skin between my shoulder blades, and then all I can do is shake my head and let out a low moan.

"Not ready," I hiss, clinging to a pillow before biting into it as his teeth dig into my shoulder, sending waves of pain mixed with pleasure shooting down my spine.

"You're always ready," he moans, managing to sound both frustrated and irritated at the same time. Then, as if he doesn't believe me and needs to check for himself, his hand slides from my waist, down over the curve of my ass and between my thighs. My back arches as his fingers find my clit, as he strums it like a guitar string, flicking it and massaging it until I moan out his name, pressing down against his hand, wanting more. Then he slides his thumb inside, pushing against the muscles at my entrance as I try to squeeze them down on him while his middle finger continues to play me like a harp, sending me closer and closer to the edge, making my juices flow like wine.

He can bring me like this, I know it and he knows it, and the wicked chuckle that vibrates along my arm as he kisses his way back up to my neck tells me that is the very thing he has in mind. So I give in to him, let him play me like an instrument, stroke me until I sing for him, until my body vibrates with the music of his name howled into the night, my back bowed, my legs quivering, my body humming with barely quenched desire.

I collapse to the mattress, my entire body still quaking with the strength of the first orgasm, but he's hardly begun. He pulls me to him, pulling me onto my back, nudging my thighs apart and raising one of my legs in both of his hands. He looks down at me, his eyes almost glowing in the darkness, and all I can see there is a sort of mystified glee.

"What?" I sigh, still enjoying the warmth of the after glow.

"I love that I can do that," he grins, pressing his lips to my ankle, and then to the back of my calf . "At least I've done _something_ right today."

* * *

"It wasn't your fault." I know by the pained look on her face that she can see the hurt and concern leaking back into my eyes, the upset that coming here was supposed to hold off, if not entirely erase.

"It wasn't _not_ my fault either," I point out, running my hand slowly down her leg, feeling the warmth emanating from her smooth skin, telling my mind to give up on the other feelings, of any thoughts that don't have to do with making her make those noises again.

"You can't do it all by yourself. I wish you would learn that and stop beating yourself up about losing," she sighs, pushing herself up on her elbows as she meets my gaze with a sympathetic one that makes my chest tight.

"Sometimes I can," I shrug, stroking her leg from hip to ankle, watching the goose-bumps race across her skin.

"There _will_ be other chances," she adds, trying to pull her leg out of my grasp, but I only tighten my grip on her ankle and shake my head.

"Maybe, probably but I don't know that for sure and…," I look down her leg and then let my gaze wander over the rest of her, letting her see how much I don't want to do this right now, "not with these guys. Now just…can we not talk right now?" I feel my forehead wrinkle, feel the strain in my head from trying not to think, but that little half smile of hers, and the way she digs her toes into my chest tells me that she agrees and then when I bite down on her instep and begin to kiss my way down her leg, paying special attention to that spot behind her knee that makes her squirm, my mind finally goes back to that partial blankness, that fuzziness that her whimpering begins to fill.

Slipping first one finger and then two inside of her, I search for that spot that I can just reach with my hand held palm up at that certain angle, that when I stroke it with that little 'come here' gesture makes her body twitch. I know that I've found it when her eyes flutter shut, her fingers dig into the sheets and she lets out that long low hiss through her teeth as her head falls to one side. I like to watch her when she's like this, when she's under my control, at my mercy.

I can push her over the edge like this, just with a flick of my fingers. She taught me this particular technique, and I remember watching her cum this way the first time. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, and so it's no wonder that I use it on her as often as I can. I love to see her skin begin to glow as the orgasm builds. I love knowing that it's me doing that to her.

It begins with her sucking her bottom lip and digging her fingers into the sheets and then her toes curl, and she begins to whimper and toss her head from side to side. Then her thighs begin to quiver and she arches her neck off of the bed and her whimpers turn into cries as she pulls on the sheets, wadding them into balls in her little fists. Then, even as I can feel the muscles clenching around my fingers, her back arches, her body lifts and she screams, and when she does, she screams my name.

That's when I slide inside of her, before she comes back down, before her body relaxes, while her muscles are still palpitating, when she's hot and wet and I can slide in easily, when I can watch my dick slide into her slowly. Digging my fingers into her hips, I pull her up so I can push deeper, so I can slide the head of my cock over that same spot and keep her there, quivering and gasping for breath, unable to relax, her muscles clenching hard around my cock. God it's good.

She likes to watch too. Her eyes snap open and she looks down at where we're joined and watches, licking her lips as I slide nearly all the way out, my cock glistening with her juices, and I just pause there, letting her see, before sliding back in, slowly, as slowly as I can stand to. It's so hard not just slam into her, so hard to hold back, but the way that she looks up at me, biting down on her bottom lip, her eyes hooded with desire, her skin damp with sweat…fuck it's worth it.

So we lost the Cupand yeah, it fucking hurts, but I have this. Some guys don't have this, they don't have an animal in their bed; they don't have _her_. Maybe it's fucking karma, maybe I'm only allowed one good thing at a time. I don't know. But as I lower myself over her, feeling her hard nipples digging into my chest, feeling her soft lips part beneath mine, her hot pointed tongue reaching for mine, I can't help but think this isn't a bad fucking second.

* * *

"Feel better this morning?" I ask, as I reach for a towel, turning the corner to find him gazing at his reflection in the mirror, his hand running over the still sparse playoff beard that lines his jaw.

"Better," he agrees, a half smile tugging at the corners of his plump pink lips as he meets my gaze in the mirror. "Does it really have to come off?"

"Please," I chuckle, handing him a towel and plopping myself down on the edge of the tub. "I mean, I kinda like it but…if I have to wax…down there," I carefully pull the loose edges under me as he turns to make a grab for my robe, "then yeah, you have to shave it off." He makes a face and then laughs as he turns back to the mirror.

"I was getting used to it," he muses, scratching at the curly side burns.

"Yeah well, maybe you were, but I kinda like you better without it, even if you'd make a cute pirate right about now," I add with a roll of my eyes when he turns and gives me that wide eyed Captain Jack Sparrow look and begins teetering around the bathroom like a drunk. Shaking my head I grab one of my toy ducks off the shelf and toss it at him. "Get shaving!"

"Why? Do we have somewhere we need to be? Can't we just go back to bed?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at me.

"Yes, we do actually," I sigh, feeling a little wistful about not being able to stay in bed. But then I move to grab the envelope off the back of the toilet and feel the deep bone ache between my legs and think better about it.

"So what are these big plans taking us out of here today?" he sighs, going back to the sink and gazing hesitantly at the vat of cold cream I've told him to use to shave with.

"Carmen and Ruuts are getting married," I sigh, pulling the itinerary out of the envelope.

"Well yeah, eventually," he mutters, slathering the cream on and making a face at the smell, and probably the feel of it on his skin.

"Yeah well, apparently Jarkko has more…_immediate_ plans," I hold up the tickets and watch him narrow his eyes. "Apparently there's a cruise ship leaving from New York in a couple days, so I thought we'd better book a flight."


	30. Chapter 30

C30

"I told you, it's _bad luck_!" Carmen screams through the door and then there's an audible thump of something hitting the back of the state room door.

"Dude, I am _so_ not hanging around to get killed by your girlfriend," Tuomo shakes his head and heads down the hall, laughing to himself.

"That's my wife you're talking about," I yell after him, but he only laughs louder and keeps walking.

"You have to get her out of that room first," he shouts over his shoulder before turning the corner, but I can still hear his laughter as he heads down the next corridor.

"She'll come out," Gonch assures me, leaning against the wall and looking dapper and serene in his tux. "She will. All women want to get married deep down. She's just mad at you right now," he adds, trying not to smile but I can see the corners of his mouth beginning to turn upwards.

"I'm not just mad," the door opens a crack, not even enough for me to get my hand in, "I'm _pissed_!" she hisses, slamming the door again, almost on my nose.

"Baby please, I just wanted to see you, I didn't know it was such a big deal," I lean against the door.

"Why don't we just let her calm down?" Gonch suggests, glancing at his watch. "You'll never make a sunset ceremony at this rate if you keep pissing her off."

"Carm, please, I have something for you," I call again, reaching into my pocket to wrap my hand around the long velvet box.

"You are not getting me to open the door with that line!" Something else hits the back of the door and this time I'm sure I can hear glass shattering.and Gonch starts to laugh, even though he's trying to stifle it. I'm about to tell him to shut it when the door opens and Jen slides out.

"Show me," she says, holding the door mostly closed behind her with one hand and holding out her free hand towards me, palm up, fingers wiggling.

"Show you? Show you what?" I ask, looking down at her hand and then up to see her rolling her eyes at me, exasperated.

"You have something for her? I mean c'mon Jaks, after that little episode with just walking in on her with the roll of condoms in your hand…," she rolls her eyes again and this time Gonch doesn't even try to stifle a laugh.

"My little brother is such a…," I stifle the nasty words I'm about to say and pull out the box instead, putting it in her upturned hand. Sticking the pointed toe of her black heel in the door, she opens the box and even though she's looking down, I hear her gasp.

"Oh honey," she sticks her head back in the door, "you have to let him in to give you this."

"But it's bad luck for him to see me before the ceremony!" I hear her yell, and then Jen hisses something that to my ears is unintelligible but whatever it is she says, works, because she turns and smiles at me and opens the door wide, allowing me entry.

She's sitting in front of the vanity mirror, wearing…well not a lot. At first all I can see is a pair of ivory coloured high heeled sandals, and then her long, long legs leading up to the chair, and then the back of the chair obscures my view. As I move around to stand beside her, my fingers itch to touch the ivory satin robe that barely skims the tops of her thighs, that gapes to reveal her ample cleavage, and my body reacts accordingly, my mouth goes dry and all of the blood in my body rushes quickly south.

"You're not even dressed," I point out quietly, which earns me a sharp glance that should make my blood run cold, except it's already simmering, so it only cools me off a little.

"My _dress_," she snaps, pointing somewhere in the corner, "is hanging up _again_, just so you could come in." I begin to glance over my shoulder but the way she clears her throat tells me that's a bad idea. "You have something to show me?" she asks quietly, and I can tell that she's trying to control her breathing.

"Look, about before, I didn't know that you were taking this so seriously, I didn't think you were that…I dunno, traditional about all this," I try and explain, and even though she's still looking in the mirror and not at me, I can see her jaw tense in reaction.

"I _am_ taking this seriously. This is _deadly_ serious to me. I'm only doing this once, so yeah, I _am _taking this seriously." I immediately feel guilty, and make a mental note to punch Tuomo in the face when I get a hold of him.

"I'm sorry," I sigh, reaching out to touch her cheek but she stiffens, and something in my chest begins to hurt.

"I know you boys don't think it's serious but…," I stop her, my hand cupping her chin in my hand and covering her pouting lips with mine.

"You know I'm serious about this, why else would I have arranged all of this except to show you how much I love you?" I chide her, kissing her cheek, careful not to disturb her carefully applied make up or her perfectly designed hair do. "Don't pout princess. This is supposed to be a happy day for us."

"The condoms, that wasn't funny," she sniffs, and I can see tears begin to glimmer in her eyes and I change my mental note from punching Tuomo to knocking his teeth so far down his throat that they'll need surgical implements to find them.

"I know, I'm sorry," I whisper, brushing my hand down her neck and gently massaging her shoulder until she makes that little happy kitten noise that I've grown to love and that sends a shudder of anticipation down my spine.

"You know I'm late, you know I'm stressed about that," she sighs, leaning into my hand.

"And you know how happy I am about it," I crouch in front of her so we can be eye to eye, so that she has to look into my eyes. "You know I can't wait for us to have a family. It was a joke, a bad joke, and I'll make Tuomo pay for it later but right now I want you to be happy and I want you to stop stressing."

"I know, and I'm sorry," she mumbles, her gaze falling away from mine and I know what she's trying to hide and I know why she's suddenly blue after days of being perfectly happy. That's why I'm here, why I had to talk to her before the ceremony.

"Don't be sorry," I kiss her cheek and reach into my pocket and take out the box, slipping it into her hand and putting my hands around hers. "Just open this and I think you'll feel better," I promise, pushing myself back up to my feet and leaning on the vanity to watch her hand quake as they open the black velvet box.

For the longest moment she just stares at the contents, her fingers trailing over the pearls like she's testing to see if what she's seeing is real, and then she turns her gaze up to meet mine, tears filling her dark eyes.

"These…how…how did you get these? These were my mom's," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion as she battles to keep the tears in check.

"I saw the way you reacted when the captain asked if you'd have anyone to walk you down the aisle and I know you. You're too proud to ask so…I hope you won't be mad but…I had your dad flown in…?" I make it a question, letting my voice trail off as she bites down on her bottom lip, her version of stopping it from quivering, from giving in to the emotion threatening to overwhelm her.

"The helicopter…," she whispers, like she can't quite get her voice around the ball of emotion I can see that she's trying to swallow past.

"Yeah, just from the mainland. It's okay right? I mean…you're not mad at me?" I ask, and now it's my turn to bite my lip in trepidation, waiting on her reaction. For what seems like an eternity she just stares down at the three strand pearl choker and then she turns her gaze back up to meet mine, tears still glimmering in her eyes, and she just nods mutely, as if she doesn't trust that if she does say something, she'll be able to hold back the tears.

Silently she stands, holding the box out for me to take, and then turning her back to me and offering her long ivory neck by sweeping her long ebony mane aside. Gingerly I lift the pearls from the box, surprised by the weight of them in my hand. Sliding them around the cool skin of her neck, I watch the goose-bumps raise beneath my fingers I close the gold clasp at the nape of her neck, testing the snugness as the gold chain drop down between her shoulder blades, a single tear shaped diamond sliding down behind her kimono. Leaning forward I press my lips to the only bare spot left of her neck, just below the hairline, and feel her shiver in response.

Pushing the slick material of her kimono down over her shoulder, I kiss my way down to her shoulder blade, surprised to find no bra strap, and then she leans back into me and her robe falls away, baring her to the waist where it's cinched, the rose bud pink of her nipples the only colour reflecting back at me in the mirror.

Now it's my turn to shiver in response to her hand curling around the nape of my neck, bringing my lips around to the curve of her shoulder as my hands slide down and over her breasts, rolling her nipples between my fingers, listening to her sigh as she presses the curve of her ass into my growing erection.

"One last time," she breathes, and I can hear the smile in her voice as her other hand reaches around to grab onto my ass, pushing me harder against her.

"Last time?" I ask, biting down on the china white skin of her shoulder, reveling in the whimper she emits as my teeth sink into her soft flesh.

"While I'm still single," she chuckles, and we both end up laughing even as I pick her up and deposit her onto the vanity, stepping between her legs.

"You're completely naked?" I gasp, feeling her soft skin where I thought I'd feel more slippery satin. She grins at me, that mischievous grin of hers' that has a way of getting my blood to boil in a good way.

"It's what I'm wearing under my dress," she whispers, wrapping her legs around me as I drop my suit trousers and guiding my rock hard dick inside of her hot wet pussy.

"Oh god, don't tell me that, I won't be able to concentrate on my vows," I groan, kissing her slowly, rolling my tongue over hers' as I slide my hands down under her ass, pulling her up just a little, to get a better angle, to slide deeper inside of her.

"Just think how easy it will be to do this again later," she whisper, her lips warm on ear as I kiss my way down her neck.

"Oh god woman, you're going to kill me," I moan, feeling her pussy clamping down on my cock.

"Mmm, maybe, but you'll die smiling," she replies, her head lolling back, offering her breasts up to my mouth as I start to push deeper into her, feeling her body pressed against mine, her arms wrapped around my neck, her fingers digging into my shoulders, her ankles locked behind my back. She's so right, I would, I'd die happy.


	31. Chapter 31

C31

"It isn't the be all end all you know," a voice drags me out of my dream like state and I look over to find Jarkko's younger brother sliding into the chair beside me at the table, cutting off my view of the rings that Sarge has just been showing to some of the other guys. I look over at Tuomo blankly and just like his brother would, he shakes his head and laughs. "It's not a life line, that's all I'm saying."

"I'm not following," I shrug, poking at the food in front of me again and wondering where my appetite has disappeared to.

"You were looking at those rings like maybe that was the answer to all your prayers," he shrugs, giving me that look like he knows something I don't.

"Was I?" I keep my gaze glued to the food on my plate, wishing that I had a better poker face.

"I mean, I've seen your lovely lady friend and I have to say, she's a fine piece of ass, but, c'mon man, you're not even legal yet, you don't want to go down that road," he chuckles, putting his feet up on the empty seat beside him.

"Who says that's what I was thinking?" I mutter, pushing the potatoes around my plate just to watch them roll.

"Oh c'mon! It's plain as day. Christ man, if I got as much pussy offered me as you do," he shakes his head when I turn to glare at him. "What? Oh c'mon, don't even _try_ to tell me they're not lined up around the block, I've played you man, I've seen them trying to climb the glass to get to you."

"The estimates of the numbers in my personal harem are greatly exaggerated," I mumble, trying to breathe through clenched teeth, trying to count to ten. If there's one thing I hate, it's the disrespect I get from other players for being the 'poster boy'. Like it was my choice, like I enjoy all the attention from girls younger than my little sister.

"Don't listen to him," Ruuts musses his kid brother's hair as he rejoins us at the table, looking a little mussed himself, but relaxed, especially for a guy that's supposed to be getting married in an hour or so. "What was it you got voted, most eligible handsome man in Finland? Of course that was before that nasty scar," Ruuts laughs, and Tuomo just rolls his eyes at his big brother and shrugs. "And you, don't listen to this guy, he just wants everyone to be as pathetic as he is," Ruuts pats me on the shoulder before forcing his brother's legs off the chair between us and shaking his head at him. "Not everyone is as anti social as you are little bro."

"I'm not anti social, what I _am_ is anti commitment," Tuomo explains with that famous Ruutu grin making the livid scar across his face seem less dominating somehow. "I mean seriously, why tie yourself down? There are so many women to taste and share…," he grins and sighs dramatically before Jarkko just begins to laugh, followed by Sarge and a few of the other guys.

"One day you'll find a girl who will change your mind about that," Jarkko gives his brother a knowing smile and something in the look they exchange makes Tuomo make a face and get up and leave the table to go back to the bar. "Don't mind him," he adds, turning back to me, "he's pretty full of himself. I think I know how you feel about Jen, don't let misery guts over there change your mind about her."

"He doesn't make it sound so miserable," I sigh, shrugging my shoulders as Jarkko shakes his head at me. "He makes a lot of sense actually. I mean, yeah, I'm really young still. I probably should be playing the field and having all the girls I can but…," I shrug, not knowing exactly how to explain myself, because I can't get it straight in my head.

"But you don't think about anyone else, you just think about her," Gonch leans into the discussion, leveling his gaze at me. "Right?"

"Yeah, I guess," I nod and watch the two older men exchange knowing smiles. "But I'm not even twenty-one. I mean…I shouldn't be serious about one girl. I should be dating and trying things and experimenting and…," Jarkko cuts me off with a bark of laughter.

"You're not a real experimental guy Croz. In fact, I'd have to say that you're not much of player at all when it comes to the ladies. I don't think you have it in you to be like my little brother or Mad Max or Staalsy. You're an old soul and you want a mate, so…ask her if that's what you feel."

"Is it though?" I shrug.

"You almost lost her once," Gonch points out sagely, raising his eyebrows up into his high forehead and giving me that daddy knows best look, "do you really want to take a chance on losing her again?"

He's right, but so is Tuomo. I'm too young to be thinking about things like this, but the more I think about going home to Coal Harbour without her and coming back to Pittsburgh in the Fall, the more I start to worry about what I might find, like her with someone else. I get these images in my head of her with some other fire fighter or, even worse, Bugsy. After all, he's said a time or two if he didn't know that I was with her, he might have taken a run at her himself. I can't stand the thought of it, her even kissing someone else, it makes my skin crawl.

But then I think, wouldn't it even be easier? I mean, there's a reason I don't date. My schedule is so full, I hardly have time for me sometimes, let alone anyone else. Look at us now, we've never even had a proper date. I can't. I can't go out in public with a woman. Even being seen with her doing nothing at all lights up the boards for a week.

Worse than that, there are all my sponsors, and they don't have to come right out and say it for me to know that it's a bad idea for me to be seen in a 'real relationship' even if it means that half the fans think I'm some kind of fag. Not that there's anything wrong with that. At least then there'd be a real reason for hiding out all the time, for all the pretense and the lies.

Which is why I'm jealous of Ruuts.

It's not just that Carmen's a great girl, which she is, I should know, but it's that he's just so damn fucking happy and he doesn't care who knows it. I've been watching them walk around this cruise ship, the happy couple with all the public displays of affection, and I'm jealous.

Jen keeps telling me that this is as good a place as any to consider ourselves safe to be open and honest but I can't do it. I keep looking over my shoulder for the camera, the one that's going to paste the picture of us holding hands on one of those web sites that Max keeps showing me. I keep thinking that someone will post a picture of us kissing and that's going to cost me one of my contracts.

I know it shouldn't be about that, and it isn't the money that I'm worried about. It's just my responsibility to them, to my brand, to my team, to my parents. They all keep reminding me of my responsibilities until I can't let my guard down, even on holiday. I can't afford to kiss my girlfriend in the middle of the dance floor like Jarkko can. I want to, but I just can't and maybe that's not fair to Jen, maybe she deserves better, but then that leads me back to the idea of her with some other guy and I'm back to square one.

I can't stand the thought of losing her. I like being able to wrap my arms around her and breathe in the clean vanilla scent of her skin, to kiss the nape of her neck, to listen to her breathing when she sleeps. She makes me feel safe, wanted, loved.

But Tuomo's right too. I'm too young to tie myself down. If I wasn't who I am, if I wasn't a hockey player, I probably wouldn't be thinking like this. I'd be going to college, I'd be dating. Even if I found the one, we'd wait til after graduation wouldn't we? That's what people do. Just not hockey players, because life is short, at least the playing part of it. It can all be over so soon. I guess it's like when a guy is going to war, you want to get married, to have the family waiting at home because you just never know….

Which is crazy because I'm not going to die on the ice. I mean, I could but….

I can't ask her to wait. Not that she's said anything at all. She's not that kind of a woman. She's never asked about a ring or any of this stuff. Not even when we got on this damn boat and she and Carmen decided to bury the hatchet, mostly because I don't think either of them are the kind of woman that get too excited about dresses and hair and all that stuff. But even with all the wedding talk, she's never even looked at me sideways like 'this could be us'. Not once.

But I can't ask to her to wait because she does have the kind of job where she could die. I mean, she almost did and I don't know if I can go through that again. And then there are those few years that she has on me but it's not that either.

It's just too selfish to ask her to wait, isn't it?

Or maybe I'm just afraid. Maybe I don't want to let my parents meet her properly because I know they'll disapprove. Maybe I don't want to have her over to dinner with Mario because he'll think a relationship isn't good for my career and he won't say it behind her back, he'll say it to her face. Maybe I don't want to put her through that. Maybe I don't want to put _me_ through that.

Maybe that's it. Maybe I'm just selfish and self centered, just like Bugsy said I am. Maybe I'm not thinking about her at all. Maybe I'm making up all kinds of reasons that have more to do with me being a chicken shit little kid and have nothing to do with her at all. Maybe I'm too scared to stand up to Troy and tell him that I love her and I don't care if he doesn't think now is the time in my career to do this. Maybe I'm just too petrified of Mario to tell him that I'm moving out and moving in with her permanently.

Maybe I'm afraid she'll say no.

That's always a possibility. She says she loves me but…she's never said anything about marriage. Aren't girls supposed to do that? They're supposed to leave out bridal magazines and lay serious hints. How am I supposed to know if that's what she wants if she doesn't tell me?

Maybe I am too young to think about any of this if I can't make up my mind.

Maybe…maybe not. I just don't know. What I do know is I'm jealous of how sure Jarkko looks, how happy, how relaxed. I don't remember the last time I felt like that.

Or maybe I do, and maybe it was with her, and maybe that's what I'm afraid of.

"Hey, sunshine, where did you just go?" Ruuts laughs, patting me on the shoulder as he and Gonch get up and stretch and laugh, looking like a couple of middle aged contented married men.

"Just thinking…stuff," I mutter, shrugging as Gonch hands me my jacket.

"Well stop thinking, and especially about my wife," Ruuts smiles at me and gives me a shove ahead of him.

"I don't," I turn around to explain and both he and Gonch laugh.

"I know man, I was just yanking your chain. Now c'mon, you have to stand up there with me, cuz like it or not, you're part of why I'm doin' this, so get movin'," Ruuts laughs, shoving me ahead of him and laughing.

"Besides, wait til you see how your girlfriend looks in her dress, huh Ruuts?" Gonch laugh, giving Jarkko a shot in the ribs.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Carmen was naked, I kinda lost track after that," he laughs, and we both roll our eyes at him. "What? Ever since I was like ten, naked girls…I don't know, I just can't think. Good thing girls don't play pro hockey huh? Can't imagine them being in the shower and then…," his voice trails off and then we all just start laughing.

"C'mon we better get you married," Gonch rolls his eyes.

"Okay," Jarkko agrees happily following us towards the prow of the ship, a big shit eating grin on his face. I envy him that. He's so sure, so content. I wish I knew….


	32. Chapter 32

C32

"You ready for this?" Jen asks, puckering her lips in the mirror and applying a darker shade of lipstick, considering it's starting to get dark, or at least it will be by the time the ceremony is over, considering I had to get dressed all over again. Not that I'm complaining.

"As I'll ever be," I smile up at her in the mirror as I put a little more waterproof mascara on, I'm hoping I won't need it, but it's better to be safe than look like some kind of raccoon later.

"You seem so calm, you must be pretty sure about all this," Jen says quietly, and I know she's still a little leery of me, even though we've 'officially' buried the hatchet.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to change my mind and drag Sidney up to the altar," I grin at her, and she smiles back, but there's still a shadow behind her eyes, and I'm beginning to think it doesn't have as much to do with me as I've been thinking that it has. "You weren't kidding when you said you didn't like weddings," I watch her look away, her lips thinning out as she shrugs, a quick tiny gesture that says a whole lot.

"Like I said before, I'm just not a girlie girl. I can't imagine anything I'd like to do less than get all dolled up and cry in front of a bunch of people," she cringes and gives a little shiver of disgust.

"So don't throw you the bouquet?" I ask, picking it up off of the make up table and holding it towards her, laughing when she cringes and backs up.

"Yeah, no. You know what you should do. Throw it to Tuomo, now that _would_ be funny."

* * *

The crew of the ship had done a great job. They'd put an arch at the bow of the ship decorated in roses and other white flowers I didn't recognize, and they'd even run a red carpet for Carmen to walk on. Standing with my brothers, I feel strangely calm. I'm not worried that she won't show up, not like she could leave the ship considering it's steaming quietly and slowly up a fjord. Looking up, I know it's Finland, I know I'm home, and it just feels right.

The guests are all holding candles, and with the sun setting behind the ship, it seem romantic to have the flickering candle light lighting her way down the aisle. I glance over at my guys, Trev who's come all the way from Vancouver even though he's just retired, Gonch, Big Georges, and even Sidney, and they all smile encouragingly at me. It's good to have them all here.

We almost won the Stanley Cup and now I'm marrying a woman who makes my heart pound in my chest every time I see her. It would only be more perfect if we'd actually won, but I guess I can't have everything; story of my life.

When she emerges from inside the restaurant, on her father's arm, I know she doesn't see anything but me, and everything else disappears. I don't even hear Tuomo's sarcastic comments anymore. How could I with her in a floor length gold satin sheath that hugs her every curve and shimmers along her skin making it clear that she wasn't lying when she said she wouldn't be wearing a thing underneath of it. Her nipples peak as the evening air hits her, and my blood begins to warm as her dark gaze meets mine. I can see the heat simmering there, and I know that she's thinking along the same lines that I am. I can't wait to get this over with and get her out of that dress, no matter how gorgeous she looks in it. I can already imagine sliding my hands under those spaghetti straps and dropping them over her shoulders, watching the gold satin sliding down over her ivory breasts, revealing her ripe pink nipples….

Okay, mind on the task at hand or I'm not going to make it through the entire ceremony.

I watch her dad give her a kiss on the cheek, and I'm glad I made that call as I watch tears well up in her eyes as she hugs him around the neck before handing her bouquet to Jen, and then offering her hands to me. I take both of her hands in mine and lean in to kiss her, softly brushing my lips over hers, wary of her make up which I know she'll want to be perfect for the pictures, even though I think she looks perfect without it. I have the urge to let her hair down from the shimmering gold hair net holding the mass of her waves back, to run my fingers through it, to brush it over her shoulders, but instead I just give her hands a squeeze before lifting each of them to my lips.

"You look beautiful," I whisper as I walk her up in front of the Captain.

"You look sexy," she grins, letting me know with the long slow rise and fall of her dark eyes that she appreciates the cut of the tux, or maybe she's just imagining me without it, it's hard to tell.

"If we can proceed…?" the Captain clears his throat and turns a little red, which tells me that he thinks the latter might be true. A nervous chuckle runs through our guests, and I have to think that I used to have a better poker face than this, but when it comes to her…I just don't seem to be able to disguise my feelings at all.

In fact I miss most of his opening comments or speech or whatever he's mumbling on about as I let my eyes roam appreciatively over her ivory shoulders, the draping of the gold fabric over her full high breasts, the round of her hip, the curve of her waist, so much so that I almost miss the fact that we've moved onto the part where we have to answer him, except that something doesn't sound right.

"Do you Gertrude Carmen Yun Yang take this man…," I don't hear the rest of it because I'm just staring at her, wondering who he's talking about. If he hadn't said Carmen in there somewhere, I'd be totally lost and it doesn't help that there's some sniggering behind me, especially from Tuomo.

"Gertie, you're marrying Gertie," he cackles, like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard.

"What?" Carmen hisses, looking like she's ready to commit murder. "Do you _blame_ me for using my middle name?"

"Just…what else don't I know?" I ask quietly, feeling a little bewildered.

"You're kidding me right? You're going to stop our wedding because of…_my first name_?" she hisses under her breath, her eyes shooting poison tipped daggers in my direction.

"No, I'm just…surprised," I smile back at her, lifting her hand to my lips, mostly to hide a my grin and to try and stifle a laugh.

"Well if you're done, can we just get married?" she growls, and for some reason the frustration in her voice makes it harder for me to keep a straight face.

"Okay Gertie," I whisper, and immediately flinch, knowing a blow is coming, and not being the least bit surprised when she smacks the back of my head hard enough that it stings, but only for a moment. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I hold my hand up in defense and look up to see her dark eyes blazing.

"Can you take this seriously or not? Because if you can't, Trev's looking awfully hot over there," she snaps, lowering her hand, but not enough that I don't feel like I need to defend myself. I know her well enough to know that she has the reflexes of a cat.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, it was just a surprise, give me a minute," I sigh, doing my best to erase the amusement from my face and straighten it back to what it was, which, when I let my gaze wander to the slit going up to mid thigh…yep, that does it, mind on other things now. "Okay, sorry. Let's just do this," I smile over at her, holding my hands out to her, trying to give her my best apologetic look. After a minute of her narrowing her eyes at me and pursing her lips like she's waiting for me to crack a smile, she finally shakes her arms out and puts her hands in mine, and together, we turn back to face the Captain.

* * *

Ruuts has all these guys standing up for him, his two brothers, Gonch and Georges and his old buddy Trev from the Canucks, I figure it's okay if I slink away from the centre of the ceremony, moving around the crowd to stand behind Jen. It doesn't do much to even out the numbers, considering Carmen's dad and Jen are the only ones standing behind her, her room mate having not been able to get away from class at the last moment like this.

Maybe it's because we've never been on a proper date or maybe it's because I've just never seen her not at work or at home, except for that one night when she came to the game, but there's something about the way Jen looks in her matching dark purple satin sheath that makes me want to run my hands over her hips, pull her back against me and taste her skin. But the moment that I run my hand down her waist, I feel her stiffen, her body visibly straightening.

Curious. Here I'd been thinking that a wedding would put her in the mood, would maybe even make her think about us and where our relationship is going, give me some clue of what she sees ahead for us. But then maybe she's taking this as seriously as Carmen seems to be. Maybe it's not just Jarkko and his little brother who aren't getting it.

I watch her raise her hand to wipe a tear from her eye, but with a candle in one hand and Carmen's flowers in the other, she just ends up looking down at her hands like they're not attached, or at the very least that they're annoying. I hold my hand out to take something from her, to help, but then she just looks down at my hand like she's not sure where it's coming from.

"Just trying to help," I explain quietly when she turns to look at me.

"You're supposed to be over there," she hisses, inclining her head in the direction of the guys standing behind Jarkko.

"I want to be with you, is that a problem?" I ask, feeling just a little hurt as she pushes the candle into my hand, dripping hot wax on my thumb in the process. "Damn!" I stare down at the wax as it cools and hardens and then back up at her profile, watching her blink back tears.

I've never seen her like this. No, I take that back, I've only seen her like this once, after the accident, but that was different. People had died. This is just a wedding. It's supposed to be happy. Looking over at Jarkko and Carmen, other than looking a little doe eyed, I don't see either of _them_ crying.

Maybe I'm just seeing this wrong, maybe she is seeing us in their shoes, maybe this is the sign that I've been waiting for all along. I'm glad I bought that ring after all.

* * *

That should be Jason. Not marrying Carmen, just…that should be Jason getting married. I was going to be his best man. It would have been a laugh. Once upon a time I'd thought about us like that, me and J-boy, but that was when we were kids. I'm glad I didn't love him like that when he…when he died.

Shit. I'm crying like a baby, and I don't even _like_ weddings. I haven't thought about him for a while now. I mean, he's crossed my mind, but I haven't seriously thought about him for a while now. I guess Sid really _has _been taking up most of my time lately, and most of my thoughts if I'm honest.

At least being on this ship with him has opened my eyes a little. It's one thing to be together in private, and there's no doubt in my mind that he's the best lover I've ever had or am likely to ever have, but he's not exactly the ideal boyfriend. Even out here on the high seas he'll barely touch me in public. I really thought after a few days he'd ease up, realize that we were on a boat in the middle of the ocean with a bunch of old fogies who have no idea who he is, and he'd be a little more relaxed but he's not. He still won't even hold my hand in public. He'll go jogging with me, even ride the exercise bike next to me, but he won't let me hug him, even when we're goofing around in the pool, and he definitely won't let me kiss him in public.

We haven't even had a date. Not on our own. Not even on this boat. Someone else is always around. It's either Jarkko or Tuomo or Sergei…it's like he's afraid for someone to see us alone together, as if by having some other guy around he has an out, he can pretend I'm with them.

It kind of hurts.

Watching Jarkko and Carmen, the way they're looking at each other, I don't think I'll ever see that in public. Sure in private, when we're alone, then he will, he does, but he can't be like that with me where other people can see, even if the other people don't seem to care because he's always on guard. I don't know if I can live like that, even if I _do_ love him.

"You may now kiss the bride," the Captain announces with a grin that's not nearly as wide as the one that Jarkko is sporting as he dips Carmen low in his arms and plants his full lips over hers'. A cheer goes up from all the guys, maybe they're hoping Carmen's dress will slide off or something, or maybe they are just happy for him, it's hard to tell. Carmen snakes her arms around his neck and I can see her admiring her new set of rings over his shoulder as he lifts her back to her feet and then she lets out a little squeal as he lifts her right off of her feet and frog marches her right to the prow to re-enact that horrible 'I'm flying' scene from Titanic.

"Want a turn after them?" Sid asks, blowing out his candles and setting them down on a nearby table set up for us outside, away from the old fogies, where we can party deep into the night without disturbing them too much.

"No thanks, I hated that movie," I mumble, shaking my head at the way Carmen is giggling and generally eating up the moment, but then I guess that at least it's part of her generally happiness and not just the re-enactment for the sake of pretending to be romantic, so I'll forgive her that.

"No that's what I like to hear, why couldn't my big brother marry you?" Tuomo sidles up to me and winks, giving me the slow once over to let me know he likes the dress on me as much as I do on Carmen.

"Because she's going to marry me," Sid steps in between me and Jarkko's younger brother in what I suppose is supposed to be a protective kind of way, but it just leaves me feeling like my big brothers are around all of a sudden, and I'm more pissed about that than the presumption of what it is he's said, until Tuomo starts to laugh.

"Romantic way to ask her kiddo," he scoffs, giving me an amused look over Sid's shoulder, leaving me wondering if he hadn't said anything if I'd even have noticed what he said.

"He didn't mean it like that," I look into Sid's caramel coloured eyes, sure that I'm right and Tuomo is wrong.

"Well I…," he can't hold my gaze, his eyes shift to the side like they do when he's talking to reporters and saying something he doesn't quite believe in, it's his tell and seeing it thrusts my heart up into my throat.

"Sid?" I watch that tic in his jaw, watch him chew on the corner of his bottom lip and suddenly there's not enough air to breathe in the entire world.

"I didn't mean for it to come out like _that_," he reiterates, his gaze meeting mine fleetingly before sliding back to the side again. I open my mouth to say something, but I don't know what, but whatever it was disappears from my brain as I feel his hand, warm and solid, wrap around mine, and watch him drop to one knee in front of me, his gaze finally meeting and holding mine.


	33. Chapter 33

C33

"You look like you could keep dancing all night," Jarkko smiles at me as he holds up my drink so I can take a sip without actually stopping or coming all the way off of the dance floor.

"I probably could, especially if you come back out here?" I grin, beckoning him and backing out onto the dance floor. With a laugh and a shake of his head, he settles into his seat, letting me know he's not going to be dragged back out. With a sigh I roll my eyes at him and go back to dancing with Tuomo and Mikko. Glancing around, I still don't see any sign of Jen or Sid, they seemed to have disappeared sometime during our vows, probably making it like bunnies somewhere on the ship, which is too bad. I was sort of depending on them to help me stay on the dance floor all night.

Not that I'm trying to avoid consummating my marriage, but I am kind of enjoying making him wait. The way his eyes follow me, the way he's been watching me, well, it's kind of hot.

Just like he can read my mind, the dj puts on something slow and sultry, or maybe he's just trying to suggest that it's time for bed. Either way, TLC's Red Hot Special tips the scales, and I don't just want to dance any more. I want to dance for him _alone_.

Sliding my hands slowly up my thighs, pulling my dress up under the palms of my hands, I watch his gaze follow the progress of the satin fabric up my thighs as I swivel my hips slowly to the beat of the music until I've reached scandalous heights that make him shift uncomfortably in his chair. Letting the dress drop back down, I slide my hands slowly upwards, until they're cupping my breasts, holding them like offerings to him, my nipples hardening against the cool fabric as his tongue sweeps over his bottom lip and he has to actually adjust the way he's sitting to accommodate his erection.

Rolling my shoulders causes the straps of the dress to slip and if I wasn't holding the dress against my breasts, I can feel that it would fall, and the way his lips part, he knows it too, but something holds him back from warning me. It's as if he'd like to see it happen, maybe not in front of his brothers or Sergei, but all the same, he can't quite make himself shout out a warning. With my best come hither look, I turn my back to him, letting the dress drop a little at the back while carefully holding my arms over my chest so as not to give his younger brothers a show. I'm fairly sure that the dress will hang at my hips, but I don't get time to worry, almost as soon as I feel it slip down my waist, my feet are leaving the ground as he sweeps me up into his arms.

"Damn woman, you _are_ trying to kill me aren't you?" he hisses, his face showing more than just the exertion necessary to carry me down the hallway, but the control required not to just shove me up against the nearest wall and have his way with me. Not that I'd object. The way his pupils are dilated, the way his jaw tenses, the way his arms feel around me, no I'd have no objections at all.

* * *

I barely make it back to the cabin. My entire body feels as if it's fit to burst when I finally lay her on the bed, her dress riding up her milky white thighs, the straps falling over her shoulders, her face flushed from laughing.

"You enjoy making me squirm don't you?" I grumble, my fingers itching to touch her skin, my entire body aching to press against hers'.

"I like when you look at me like that," she grins up at me, her eyes shining with happiness as she reaches out for me, "I always dreamed about you looking at me like that. I can't help it if it makes me happy."

"Well two can play at that game," I grin, suddenly remembering the order I'd put in just before dinner. Sure enough, waiting in the bathroom sink in mostly cold water, the ice cubes having mostly melted, is a bottle of Moet&Chandon pink champagne. Whistling to myself, I carry it over to the bed, brandishing my weapon.

"Oooh champers, gimme," she claps and reaches for the bottle.

"Oh I don't think so," I grin, lowering the bottle so that the bottom of it presses against the side of her knee. She lets out a little shiver as I slowly roll the bottle up the inside of her thigh, but she slides her legs apart and her eyes flutter shut as the condensation from the bottle beads on her smooth skin. I repeat the motion along her other leg and her shiver intensifies and a sigh escapes her red lips as she lies back on the bed, her fingers digging into the bedspread as I work the bottle upwards, pressing it gently over her sweet pussy lips.

"Oh god," she moans, lifting her legs so that her feet are up on the bed, her knees bent, her thighs parted, her clit swollen and glistening with anticipation as I gently roll the cool bottle over it until she sucks a long breath through her teeth and her obsidian eyes open to gaze into mine. "Are you going to open that or fuck me with it?" she asks, her voice husky with desire.

"I don't know, I'm kind of enjoying this," I admit, grinning down at her as I kneel on the bed, rolling the bottle gently over her pussy lips until her eyes flutter shut again and a shudder runs the length of her body.

"Fuck me Jarkko, please," she sighs, letting go of the quilt where she's balled it up in her little fists, and, stretching her arms over her head, she makes the cute little kitten noises and then looks up at me, contented and happy and very turned on. "Please?" she asks again, using that cute little voice and batting her eyelashes at me.

"Not yet," I shake my head at her, moving the bottle from my left hand to my right so I can push her dress up past her waist, up over her stomach, up over her breasts. "You made me suffer, now it's your turn." She sticks her succulent bottom lip out to pout, but it's short lived. Once I touch the side of the bottle to the tip of her pink nipple, her mouth falls open, and she lets out the cutest little squeak, like a tipsy mouse falling off a brick of cheese, half surprise, half pleasure. I repeat the action on the other nipple and am rewarded by a little moan as she arches her back. "You like that?" I ask, circling her nipple, rubbing the cool glass on the darker blush of the areola, watching her nipple harden even more as she twitches and shudders and makes those mewing noises as she arches off of the bed.

"Please, please Jarkko," she moans, trying to push the bottle away with the heel of her hand. "Stop teasing."

"So you can give it out but you can't take it, is that what you're saying?" I grin down at her, holding the bottle just out of her reach as she makes a grab for it.

"It's not fair, you wouldn't dance, now you won't make love to me either," she sticks that bottom lip out again, and it's just too tempting, I have to lean in and bite down on it, giving it a gentle tug before kissing my way down her ivory neck to the slope of her shoulder, all the time sliding the bottle down between her breasts, down over her stomach, down between her thighs.

"All's fair in love, isn't that what they say?" I mutter against her skin, nibbling my way down to her nipple, licking my way around it like it's an all day sucker, like I could do this all night, and maybe I could, if my dick wasn't throbbing and becoming almost painful pressed against the material of my tuxedo pants.

"_And_ war," she chuckles, reaching down to give my ass a hard open handed smack, which makes me wince.

"You outta watch what you're doing missy," I chuckle, pushing myself up and off of her, and climbing off of the bed, leaving her staring up at me, her dress shoved up under her arms. "You shouldn't start something you can't finish."

* * *

"Oh I can finish it," I grin up at him, digging my heels into the mattress and sliding my hands slowly downwards, inching towards my pussy until his mouth falls open and he has to look away to regain his composure.

"I told you, you really shouldn't tease if you can't take the heat," he mixes his metaphors as he struggles to open the bottle, the cork coming loose at last, and the bubbles begin to pour everywhere. That's when he turns back to me, letting the overflow flow over my pussy and down into the cleft, making me squirm and squeal as the cold liquid pools between my legs.

"Don't waste it," I pout, reaching for the bottle again, only to have him chuckle and shake his head.

"I'm not planning to," he grins, pulling off his tie and dropping it, carefully undoing each button of his crisp white shirt while still managing to somehow hold onto the bottle.

"You're just trying to distract me," I pout, but still enjoy the reveal of his strong masculine chest, his smooth skin, and last, but never least, that goodie trail….

"And it's working," he grins, tossing the shirt down with the tie before unsnapping the top button on his pants, and I know he's waiting for me to look up at him, but I can't, not when I'm going to get a look at his thick hard cock. I'm _so_ never going to get sick of seeing that.

"Yeah, I think that's too much distraction for you right now," he grins, suddenly sliding out of my line of sight, dropping to his knees while dragging my ass to the edge of the bed and pulling my knees over his shoulders.

"Hey, wait…what are you…?" I barely get out a word when I feel that cold liquid pouring over my pussy again and then…oh god…his lips, his tongue digs into my entrance, sucking the champagne out, and sending me back to digging into the mattress and quilt with my fingers and toes. Another trickle of cold liquid and his tongue sweeps northwards, over my clit, pulling a shriek from my throat. God, he's just so _good_ at this.

I feel his fingers spread my nether lips as his tongue makes laps that leave me quivering and moaning and holding onto the bedspread like it's the only thing stopping me from sliding into oblivion. I can feel the tell-tale squeeze of the muscles in the small of my back and I open my mouth to tell him I'm about to cum, as if he can't feel the same quivering here his fingers are digging into my thighs, but then he stops. Just stops.

My eyes pop open, and all kinds of questions spring to mind, but he's just standing there, grinning, with a basket in one hand and the now half empty bottle of champagne in the other and I end up just waiting to see what he'll do next.

* * *

She looks up at me in surprise, maybe a little pissed off too, but then when I dig into the little basket with my teeth and bring out a chocolate dipped cherry, her lips close and turn into a sexy little smile. Crawling back onto the bed, I drop the cherry into her navel, and then pour a thin line of champagne up from there to the valley between her tits and lick my way northward, slowly. I hear her sigh as my tongue sweeps up over her breast and around her nipple but I don't give her what she wants, what she's expecting. I don't bite or suckle at her nipple. Instead, I dig out another cherry, rolling it around on my tongue just enough so the chocolate starts to come off, and then I take it between my thumb and forefinger, and roll it around her nipple until the pink turns to chocolate and only then do I lick and suckle at her nipple until she begins to moan and dig her fingernails into my shoulders.

I repeat the same actions on her other nipple, enjoying the little whimpers when I tug on her nipple between my teeth, and have to stifle a laugh when I abandon her nipple in favor of finishing the cherry, chewing it slowly, deliberately as she watches. Picking up another cherry between my teeth, I offer it to her, sharing it with her as our lips touch, and then we kiss, deeply, tasting the bitter chocolate and sweet cherry juice on each other's tongues.

I could kiss her forever, I love the way she tastes, the way my body reacts to just her lips and tongue, but my cock is aching and I don't know how much more I can do before I'm going to have to get some kind of relief. So I pick up the champagne bottle and pour another trail to follow, back down to her navel, where the chocolate has begun to melt off of the cherry and into her belly button, and I dig it out with my tongue, making her squirm and whimper and beg for mercy.

Yet it's mercy that _I'm_ looking for as I wiggle out of my suit pants and underwear, freeing my throbbing cock at last. Grabbing her hips in my hands, I slide into her as slowly as I can, having to clench my teeth and keep my body mostly still, pulling her onto me more than thrusting into her. As my cock slips into her hot wet pussy, her body goes almost limp in my hands, a beatific smile of satisfaction on her face.

It's that cherubic smile that makes me move slowly, enjoying each and every movement of her body, the rise and fall of her chest, the clenching of her muscles, the way her hair spreads out around her head like a fan, her ruby red lips parted around my name as I pull her hips off of the bed so that I can find that spot that makes her cry out, that makes her entire body quiver. I move the head of my cock over it, loving the way her entire body begins to glow as she nears her orgasm, feeling the heat intensify around my cock as her body clenches around mine.

It feels so good, and yet, I still don't want to cum, don't want it to end. I hold myself still, my eyes shut tight against the wave of pleasure filling my body as her pussy clenches around my cock. I think of the stink from my hockey gloves, the pimples on Geno's back, Big Georges walking around the dressing room naked and I manage to stave of the orgasm, even as her body bucks and shivers as hers' takes hold.

I ride the wave, managing to stay above it, ride through it. Then I cuddle her body close to mine, my lips a breath from hers, her precious face cradled in my hands, and I move slowly, making shallow thrusts, holding her gaze with mine. As she comes back to herself, her eyes flutter open, and she looks up at me with a drunken sort of glee, and wraps herself around me, her arms around my neck, her legs around the small of my back and we hold each other, soundlessly, as we move, slowly, gently, not rushing in any way.

It seems like forever, and not at the same time, when the wave begins to crash over me again, her pussy clenching around my cock, her back arching off of the bed, my name on her lips as she drags me over the edge with her. I hear myself, like I'm not really in my own body, bellowing like some kind of prize bull as I empty myself into her, cursing in Finnish as her body milks me dry, pulling every last drop from my body as if she's some kind of vampire.

* * *

"I love you, god I love you," he whispers as his body slowly lowers entirely onto mine, his lips brushing my neck as he relaxes against me.

"You'd better, because you're married to me now," I whisper back, nuzzling his hear before pressing my lips to it.

"Mrs. Ruutu," his voice vibrates against the thin skin of my neck, making me shiver. "I like the way that sounds, Mrs. Ruuuutuuuu."

"I hope so," I giggle, wriggling out from under him as he begins to tickle me along my ribs, as if his blowing on my neck was not enough. "You're going to be hearing it for a long time," I add as I roll over onto my side, facing him.

"I'd better," he grins, pulling me into him, so our bodies are pressed together, so his hands can slip down and grab hold of my ass, pulling my hips firmly against his. "It kinda makes you my property," he adds with a throaty growl as I wrap my leg over his hip, grinding my moist pussy against him.

"It kinda makes you mine too, so you'd better behave," I add with a grin of my own as I feel his body begin to respond.

"Don't I always?" he chuckles, rolling me over and pressing me down into the mattress, his body pinning mine, his hands grabbing a hold of my wrists and holding them so I'm totally at his mercy. Well, almost totally.

"No, not always," I grin up at him, thrusting my body against his, wrapping my legs around him and pulling him inside of me. With a long low groan, his eyes close and his playful grin turns into something even sexier.

"I think I like your punishments," he raises his eyebrows and smiles mischievously down at me, "Mrs. Ruutu."

"Oh, you haven't seen nothin' yet _Mr_. Ruutu," I grin up at him, thrusting my body against his and watching his eyes flutter closed and a wide grin spread across his handsome face.


	34. Chapter 34

C34

"Just…no? Just like that? No?" I stare at her, my mouth hanging open, not quite believing what I'm hearing. Not wanting to answer out on the deck with everyone else around; that I understand. Being angry with me for even asking during someone else's wedding, that I get too. But no?

"You're not even twenty-one yet," she chuckles, like it's funny, "you don't really _want _to tie yourself down like that yet, and god knows I'm still playing around with my life, I don't really know what _I_ want to do with my life. Hell my brothers haven't even had a chance to beat you up yet and they're _dying to_ believe me and besides, we've never even had a proper date yet," she continues, smiling all the while like she's not crushing my heart in her hands.

"But…you said you loved me," I mumble, unable to meet her gaze, it just hurts too much. Instead I stuff my hands in my pockets and curl my hand around the ring until I'm sure the princess cut diamond has drawn blood.

"I do," she chuckles again, reaching for my hand, but I pull it out of her fingers before she can wrap them around mine "Sid…you didn't actually expect that I'd say yes, did you?" her voice drops just above a whisper, and I feel the tension rise in the room.

"I guess I did," I shrug, staring at a spot on the carpet to avoid her gaze, which I know is boring into the side of my head, I can feel it, I can feel her sitting close to me, on the end of the bed we've made love in for a week, and it suddenly feels too small, too close. Shrugging off her hand as she touches my arm, I get up and move away from her, leaning on the TV stand, my fingers gripping the edge of the press board until it bites into my skin.

"Sidney…I just…I mean this is just so out of the blue for me. I mean, what with the Carmen thing and…I'm just starting to trust you," I can feel her looking at me, like a prickling along my skin, but I can't look at her. I'm too angry.

"You're going to throw _that _at me?" I grumble, feeling like she's just dropped a ten tone weight on my chest.

"I'm not _throwing _anything at you, it's just a fact. Don't get me wrong…I mean, it's a lovely idea and all but…I mean c'mon, we hardly even know each other," she continues, panic starting to seep into her voice.

"I thought you felt the same as me, I guess I was wrong," I glance up at her to find her staring at me wide eyed, her pretty pink lips parted in a silent 'o'. "It's okay. I mean…I'll get over it, whatever."

"Whatever?" she closes her mouth and looks confused for a moment before she pushes off the edge of the bed and comes towards me. As soon as she touches me, trying to wrap her arms around my neck, it feels wrong, and I push her away, gently, but firmly. "Sidney…look, I'm sorry if it hurt your feelings but…I'm just being honest with you. You must see it too? It's just too soon, don't you think?"

"Obviously not," I snap, glancing over at her to see her looking back at me, consternation clear on her face. "I guess we're just not as on the same page like I thought we were."

"I think we are, I just think there's a lot of stuff going on that you don't have a lot of control over and it's natural to want to…I don't know the right word but…nest? I mean you lost the Cup and then there's some of the guys saying they won't be back and…."

"Rub it in some more, why don't you?" I growl, feeling even more defensive, which doesn't seem altogether possible, but she's certainly pushing all the right buttons right now. She sighs and rolls her dark eyes at me, before sinking back on the bed, wrapping her arms around herself, and just staring at me.

"I'm trying to have an adult discussion with you. Do you think you could stop being such a child about this?" I feel the red haze of fury beginning to veil my vision as I look at her looking up at me with this cold look in her eyes, and I know the best thing I could do right now is leave the room before I do or say something I'm going to regret but I guess that _would be_ the childish thing to do.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," I mutter between clenched teeth, trying to keep back the angry words that are swimming in my brain, threatening to spill out, and it doesn't help that she just stares back at me, her lips pursed, her eyes cold.

"You know damn well I don't think of you like that and that _isn't_ what I meant," she snarls, her chin lifting defiantly and her eyes flashing something that looks like a warning, but as usual, that kind of thing is only a red flag to a bull when it comes to me.

"Well what _am_ I supposed to think Jen, huh? First you say I'm too young, then you call me a child…what else do you think I'm going to think huh?"

* * *

First I was just embarrassed that he'd try something like that in front of everyone and at Jarkko and Carm's wedding to boot, but now…I'm just not even sure what to think. At first I thought he was just trying to prove a point to Tuomo, after all, for some reason Jarkko's little brother had been trying to get under Sid's skin ever since we got on the ship, but now….

I can hardly believe that he's serious and worse than that, he's behaving like we're breaking up, like _I'm_ breaking up with _him_.

"I never said you were too young, hell _I'm_ too young by my own standards. I just think…just that we both have so much going on right now, we're going through so much and now isn't the time to be doing this, don't you think?" I search his face for some sign that I'm getting through to him, but all I see is defiance in the set of his jaw, anger in the narrowing of his eyes and disappointment in the thrust of his lush lips.

"I guess I don't think that," he shrugs, still staring at the floor, like he can't stand to look at me. "I guess I thought we kinda needed each other. I guess I thought things were good between us. But maybe you don't think that," he snarls, his lip curling up in a petulant sneer as he looks up at me, his eyes dark with a fury that feels like a slap.

"You're acting like I'm saying I don't love you," I begin, but before I can get anything else out, he's shaking his head and turning his gaze back down to the floor, digging the toe of his dress shoe into the carpet.

"That's what it feels like to me. In fact, it's kinda felt like that for a few days now. Maybe I just didn't want to admit it to myself," he sighs, sarcastically. Part of me wants to cross the room and smack him across his handsome face and part of me just wants to cry and have him come and put his arms around me, but I do neither, I just sit and look at him, at how his suit doesn't quite fit, a little too big so that it all fits around his luscious skater's butt, but still…he looks so handsome. His hair looks darker against the black cloth, his skin paler, his full lips more pink. My fingers itch to touch him, to lay my hand against his cheek, to kiss his soft lips, but I can't because it's like a wall has grown up between us.

Maybe he's right.

"I _do_ love you Sidney," I whisper quietly. "I'm not saying no, I'm just saying I don't know if we're at that place _yet_ . I mean, you won't even hold my hand in public Sidney and…I just don't see me saying yes to that question until you can at least do that, you know?" I look at him hopefully, wanting him to understand, wanting him to stop clenching his jaw and soften his gaze, but he doesn't do any of those things. Instead he shrugs, and then looks up at me, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"There's things I can do and things I can't, and if you don't understand that, then yeah…I guess we're just not at that place yet," he uses my words to toss a final shot in my direction, and then pushes off and walks out of the room, slamming the door hard behind him. I stare at the door, wondering should I go after him or not, but in the end, I just sit on the end of our bed on my own, and do nothing at all.

* * *

"_She said no_?" Army sounds as surprised as I feel as I head down the gangplank, stretching and yawning, trying to ignore the sideways glances of disapproval I'm getting for my rumpled suit and my equally unkept hair which probably looks worse thanks to pulling on it half the night while I tried to think this shit through.

"She said no," I repeat, coughing just to ease the tension in my chest.

"_Huh. Gotta say, I bet you didn't see that coming_," he adds, and I can almost hear the smirk in his voice when he says it.

"Gee thanks for that, Captain Obvious," I grumble, hitting the ground and peering around me at the still partially dark streets for a taxi.

"_I'm just…from what you've told me, you sounded pretty sure about her answer_."

"Yeah, again, thanks for rubbing that in. I called for some sympathy Colby, not for you to twist the knife man," I sigh, spotting a cab in the distance and hoping that they're going to speak English around here.

"_Look I'm sorry man. I don't mean to make things worse. I know you really liked her and_…."

"Loved her. Not liked her, _loved_ her," I correct him, feeling that stabbing pain in my chest again. "Am I fucking crazy Colby? Is it wrong to want to marry someone?"

"_Uh…no_," I hear him sigh, and then there's silence, and that's not like Colby, he's always got something to say, and usually he knows the right thing to say to cheer me up, and so far he's not coming up with it.

"Spill it man, you know something don't you? Why did she say no?" my heart beat doubles and I feel like I need something to hang on to.

"_No man, I don't know anything. I've been back here in the Praries knowing nothing for a while. I just…look man, I was gonna wait until you got home but…I asked Mel to marry me_." He says it quickly, like ripping off a band aid I guess, but it doesn't hurt any less and then there's just silence, and the sound of him breathing, waiting for my reaction.

"Wow, um…congratulations I guess," I wince at my underwhelmed reaction. He's supposed to be one of my best friends. I should be happy for him. Mel's great and he really loves her, I know that much. "Sorry…yeah, congratulations man, I know you two will be really happy."

"_Thanks man, really. But…I'm sorry for you, you know? I thought we'd have this big party together when you guys got back. Like a double engagement party but uh…anyway, I'm sorry man_."

"Yeah well…here's me telling you all my problems and there's you all happy. I'm the one who should be sorry," I mutter, finally climbing into the taxi. "Airport please, as fast as you can," I hold my phone down near my waist as I give the cabbie instructions. "Anyway, I'll be home soon. You and Mel should come stay."

"_Are you saying you need the company? You're not thinking of doing something stupid are you_?" Colby asks, and for once, he doesn't sound like he's kidding.

"No, no suicide watch needed just…yeah I think I'll need you to help keep my mind off of things." Even as I say it, I know it's true. I'm not even looking forward to the plane ride home alone. It hasn't been that long and yet…I just can't imagine not being with her.

"_Yeah well, if you don't think us…if you don't think it will be too much man, of course I'd like to come hang with you and I'm sure Mel won't mind a break by the lake either_."

"It's a plan then, so…I'll call you when I get home but…make plans, soon man, okay?" I hear the note of panic creeping into my own voice and take a deep breath. I'm a grown man. I can live without one girl. She's just a girl, there's lots out them out there as Tuomo kept telling me. Maybe I should have listened to him.

* * *

"He'll come back," Carmen says, patting my hand like I'm some demented old granny that she's leading back to the home and she doesn't want me to get spooked and toddle off and get lost again.

"He won't," I insist, staring into the strong tea Jarkko's mom has just put in front of me. Apparently in Europe, everything can be made better with a strong cup of tea.

"He might," Jarkko sighs, doing his best to look concerned when I know damn well he'd rather be bonking Carmen's brains out than sitting here trying to be sympathetic with his teammate's naughty mistress.

"He won't," I repeat, dropping my head into my hands. "He has so much pride and I wounded it and I know he won't forgive me for that. Even if I _am_ right."

"Well that much is true," Carmen nods, reaching across my shoulders to give me a hug. "He's too young." My head shoots up, hair falling into my eyes and sticking to my hastily applied lipstick (after all, you don't face mom without it).

"He's _not _too young, that's not it!" I growl defensively, my eyes a little too wide, my mouth opening in a Jack Nicholson/Joker grin. "It's just too soon. It has _nothing _to do with age. You don't know him like I do, and don't even bring up that you slept with him, it doesn't matter. _You_ don't know him, _I_ do."

"I wasn't," Carmen says quietly, petting my hand again like she's trying to soothe some deranged child this time, talking in a sort of sing-song nursery rhyme voice. "I wasn't going to bring that up, and you're right. I don't know him. I think whatever person he was with me wasn't the person you know. I don't know, I'm guessing. But I've seen him with you now and…he loves you Jen, that's pretty clear to everyone. Isn't it babes?" She looks over at Jarkko who looks back at her with a mixture of tenderness and impatience, and I don't have to guess which emotion is aimed at me.

"It took him a while to get the stick out of his ass," Jarkko gives me a half wattage Ruutu grin and then shrugs, "but yeah, I think the kid genuinely loves you but…you're gonna have to give him some time cuz…yeah he might love you but you're right about that pride thing. It's gonna take some getting over being turned down like that. Especially with all the other stuff, you know…losing Army and then the Cup…," his voice trails off and he just shrugs and goes back to stirring his tea and trying to not get pulled into this emotional girl stuff again.

"But you think he will get over it…some time?" I ask quietly, reaching over to lay my hand over Jarkko's bigger one, because I have to hear it from him because of everyone in the room, he knows the Kid best. For a moment he won't even raise his green eyes to meet mine, but then he shrugs and when he does raise his gaze, it's with a smile.

"Yeah, he's a pretty smart guy. He'll get over it, and when he does, you'd better be ready."


	35. Chapter 35

C35

"Someone get me a program. Who are all these guys?" he looks up from where he's stretching on the ice to watch me gliding along the blue line toward him.

"Yeah lots of changes," he agrees, climbing to his feet and joining me at the boards where he leans on the butt of his stick, watching his mostly new teammates skate by with this sort of wistful look on his face. "How do you like Ottawa so far?" he asks, like he's trying to change the subject, and considering that I know he's the kind of guy who just hates change, who is such a creature of habit, I can easily guess why.

"It's good, yeah. Bit lonely," I add, watching to see how long it takes for my words to sink in, for his eyes to get a bit wider, for his gaze to swivel to meet mine. "Yeah well, Carmen's had a rough couple of months. We keep waiting for the morning sickness to get better. She doesn't want to spend that long on a plane until it does."

"I bet," Sidney nods, his lips turning up at the corners until it's just about the ghost of a smile. "Well maybe now that it's cold…," he begins and I just laugh and shake my head.

"I wish. Carmen likes the cold, as it turns out," I sigh. "She's here actually. I managed to talk her into coming out." I watch the twitch in his jaw, watch him try not to turn and look where I'm pointing with my stick.

"Yeah, um, maybe I should say hi after the game," he mumbles, digging the toe of his skate into the ice.

"She'd like that. She wanted to make sure I said hello," I pat him on the shoulder, wondering how much of this shut down quiet Sidney is my being the enemy now, how much is still guilt over Carmen and how much has to do with the other reason I came over to say hi. "So how are you and Jen these days?" I ask, watching that twitch become more pronounced as he begins to chew nervously on his bottom lip.

"Ummm I haven't seen her for a while," he mumbles, pretending like he's checking over the tape on his stick, as if he would havebrought it out on the ice if it wasn't perfect.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," I lean over, digging my elbow into his ribs. "I knew that, you know how?" I take his silence as my cue to go ahead. "She's here, visiting Carmen. Turns out, your running off like a scared little kid brought them pretty close together." I see the tension in his jaw, in the way he purses his lips, in the narrowing of his eyes, but he doesn't say anything, one way or the other. "And when I say she's here I mean _here_, at the rink here. I mean last night I was introducing her to your new teammate, Janne over there but tonight Carmen made her come, said she wouldn't come on her own. They're sitting behind the penalty box. I've told her that I won't be taking any penalties tonight, but she didn't believe me." He tries not to look, but I can see the effort it takes for him not to turn his head to look for her. "She's been dating some cop. It seems to be serious. Not that you care, right?" I give him a final bump and then skate away.

I've done my job, three ways from Sunday. I've said hello, just like I promised Carmen that I would. I've gotten a dig in for Jen, like I promised I wouldn't. Most importantly, I've got under Sid's skin, got his mind off of the game, for my team, just like they pay me too.

* * *

"C'mon, just a peek," Carmen digs her elbow into my ribs as she tries to make me turn to watch the Pens warming up.

"No, no, no! Damn Carmen. I came because you begged me to. I'm not going to punish myself on top of freezing my ass off."

"Me thinks she doth protest too much," Carmen grins at me as I shift uncomfortably on the bench seats and try and huddle into my oversized sweater.

"This coming from someone who's what; ten degrees warmer than normal?" I mutter, keeping my eyes glued to Auldy as he takes a battering from Heatley and Spezza as they rattle shots off his shoulders.

"You know you want to see him. C'mon, take a look. He looks really handsome, his hair's cut shorter than I remember…," she continues until I reach over and pinch her upper arm.

"Cut it out Carmen. I don't want to see him, he doesn't want to see me, okay? Can you just leave it? Please?" I give her my most evil gaze and she just laughs.

"No chance, this is my one opportunity to play matchmaker, I am _not _letting you weasel out of it," she smiles at me and goes back to rubbing her baby bump contentedly.

"Just because your hormones are all out of wack doesn't mean that you have the right to mother me. He made his decision months ago Carm, I'm over it. I don't want to see him. I'm fine with what I have going now. Darryl's a really nice guy and…."

"Oh please, officer goody two shoes? C'mon, he can't possibly ring your bell like Sid can?" she grins like she knows some secret and I guess she does, after all, she had her night with him, and just thinking about that makes my skin crawl. "I saw that," she chuckles. "Admit it Jen, you still want him." I open my mouth to argue but when I turn my head to look her in the eye, I catch just a glimpse of him leaning against the boards talking to Ruuts and my mouth goes completely dry.

She's right. He looks crazy handsome. His hair is shorn close to his neck, just a few curls escaping beneath the brim of his helmet falling into his forehead, his skin so pale against the black of his jersey, his lips so full and pink….

"Damn," I grumble, feeling my heart beating hard enough against my ribs that it seems hard to take a breath.

"See," Carmen leans in to whisper in my ear, "you did want to see him, and you _do _still want him, and if you think it's bad now, just wait 'til he starts playing and you start to get all hot and bothered, then you'll _really _be mad at me."

* * *

Don't look.

Don't look.

Don't look.

Damn I looked.

She's coloured her hair, it's sort of…red now, it looks good on her, sort of suits her personality in bed, fiery. Shit! I can't be thinking of stuff like that now. Damn, damn, damn.

At least she doesn't look happy to be here. Wait. What am I saying? No woman I've ever met can even compare to her. I haven't been able to sleep properly since I left her. I've been trying to work up the courage to swallow my pride and call her, beg her forgiveness, even if it means that we can only go back to the way we were before….

She said no, you stupid jackass. She said no and she doesn't want you. She's dating…what did Ruuts say? A cop…yeah a cop. She's dating, she's moved on. It's time you did too.

Maybe if I stopped talking to myself I could.

"What's with you man? You're all spacie and shit. Did those Swedish meatballs we had for lunch disagree with you or something?" Gronk laughs, hip checking me playfully into the boards.

"She's here," I mutter, glancing back up at her where she's sitting behind the penalty box.

"Sweeeeet," Gronk grins, "maybe I'll get a run at her this time," he adds with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"You? You think Jen would touch you? You must be drunk," I shake my head at him.

"What? You broke up with her. That means she's free right?" I search his blue eyes to find that he honestly thinks he could have a chance, or at least that he thinks he should get a chance.

"No," I shake my head, "no way."

* * *

"Do you know what they call guys like you in Finland?" Ruuts grunts at me as he shoves me face first into the boards.

"What?" I grunt back, pushing back at him and digging my elbows as deeply into his chest as his pads will allow.

"A fucking pussy!" he laughs, giving me what for him is a playful face wash before the linesman pulls him off me. I turn to tell him to fuck off, but the way he's shaking his head and laughing as the linesman holds him back, the words just sort of die on my tongue.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" I growl at him instead, pulling my jersey back down and ignoring that famous shit eating grin of his.

"Do you know how many times I've looked over to see you gazing up at her with your big moon eyes?" he laughs, leaning over so that he's whispering in my ear, straining against the linesman's arms. "God, just talk to her already you little puss." He shakes his head again and waves me off as he skates away. With a quick glance over my shoulder, I can see Carmen looking down at me with that Cheshire cat grin of hers', and I'm not absolutely sure, but I think this time Jen might have actually been watching me instead of the scoreboard.

"He's right you know," Max grins, patting me on the shoulder, "you're being a huge puss. She's right there dude and you haven't so much as acknowledged her. What are you waiting for? Remember, _you_ walked out on _her_. You can't expect her to make the first move dummy."

For the second time in as many minutes, I open my mouth to object, only to find I have nothing to say because he's right. I left. I can't expect her to wave or even acknowledge me. Even if she is dating someone else, if I believe Ruuts, which I'm not sure I do but I can't think of any reason he'd lie, that doesn't mean she's not hurting.

After all, I still am.

"Yeah well, fuck him. Hey Ruuts, fuck you you fucking Fin! Fuck you and all your little Ottawa buddies huh? Fuck you," I yell, looking past the linesman, who had only just started to skate away, but I can see him pause mid glide in my peripheral vision and turn to watch me. "Yeah fuck you, you fucking freak. Pick on someone your own size you stupid bully!" I add just for fun, tossing my glove at the back of Jarkko's head. Thank god he seems to be in a good mood, and not in the mood for fighting or right now I'd be asking to kiss my ass good bye, but just as I thought he might, he only turns around and sticks his tongue out at me and laughs.

"Watch it eighty-seven, you're walking a line here," the linesman warns, skating back towards me.

"Yeah well he should pick on someone his own size and maybe you should fucking enforce some fucking rules," I growl at him, trying not to laugh as his face gets red as he grabs for the neck on my jersey.

"You better think about it eighty-seven, you're lookin' two minutes right in the eye," he snarls at me and it's all I can do not to laugh.

"Fuck you," I snort, biting the inside of my cheek to stop from smiling as he blows his whistle in my face and directs me in no uncertain terms towards the box.

"You had to do it. Five minutes for unsportsmanlike," he snarls at me, pushing me into the box. I don't even pretend to fight it, I leave that for Gonch as he comes to try and defend me, giving me an evil look as I slam the door shut and toss my gloves off into the corner.

Now what do I do? I got myself in here, and all I can do is waste precious time staring at Sergei. C'mon, grow a pair. She's right behind you. Just tell her you made a mistake. Tell her you let your ego get in your way. Most of all tell her that you're talking to yourself and you didn't used to do that this much.

Turning sideways I look up to see her studiously staring up at the scoreboard. Just like she has been doing for most of the game, I know, I've been watching. After taking a couple of deep breaths, I scramble to my knees on the bench, which is just enough to get me within her sight lines, if she was looking.

"Jen…Jen!" For a minute I think it must be hard for her to hear me over the crowd, but then I see the tension in her jaw, like she's grinding her teeth, and I know she's heard me. That and I can hear Carmen giggling. Oh god…she's gonna make me yell this. "Jen, look, I fucked up, I made a mistake. I'm sorry. Can you forgive me, please?" I watch the colour creep slowly up her neck until it fills her face, giving her cheeks a rosy glow. I watch her curl her fingers around the bench until her knuckles turn white. I watch her try hard to pretend I'm not there. Damn! She's not going to make this easy on me. "I made a mistake Jen, I shouldn't have tried to rush you but I was afraid to lose you. I love you okay? I love you and I want you back."

* * *

There's an eerie silence in the arena, or it might be my imagination, or my highly developed sense of paranoia. The only sound I can hear is Carmen snickering behind her hands. As if that wasn't bad enough, I can literally feel everyone looking at me. It only takes a quick glance around to see that it's not just me being paranoid. At least every man woman and child in our section is staring at me. Not at Sid peering over the top of the glass behind the penalty box; at _me_.

Fuck.

"Well? Go on, don't make the poor boy beg," Carmen sniffs, her eyes glistening with the kind of tears only laughter can cause. I do the only thing I can with so many gazes on me; I narrow my eyes at her and curse her under my breath. She'll pay for this, later.

"Go on," the guy sitting next to me nudges me with his big shoulder and smiles. "Go on, he's asking nicely," he adds with a big toothy grin.

"Yeah, c'mon, it's Sidney Crosby," the lady in front of me decked out in a Swedish flag and blue and yellow face paint, I assume in honor of Alfredsson but I can't be sure.

"Say yes," the chant begins, building until it sounds like the entire arena is chanting it in time with the beating of my heart as my gaze turns to finally meet his.

"Yeah Jen, go on, say yes," he says, or I think he does. At least that's what I read from his soft lips as he smiles up at me, but I couldn't possibly hear it over the crowd. Oh god, this is so embarrassing.

Say yes he says. It seems to me he's said it before…and yet….


	36. Chapter 36

C36

Her lips are soft as she presses them to mine, her hair falling gently info my face, brushing my skin, her fingers lacing with mine as her lips part, her tongue flicking against mine. As she draws back, just enough so that we can look at one another, I feel a grin spread across my face.

"You're an idiot," she mumbles, trying not to smile but I can see the muscles twitch at the corners of her red lips.

"Is that a yes?" I laugh, ignoring the cat calls and whistles from both the ice and the crowd.

"It's a _maybe_," she sighs, rolling her dark eyes at me but I can tell that she's biting the inside of her cheek to stop from smiling.

"I'll take it," I grin, offering her my lips again, a shudder running through my entire body when she leans into the kiss, deepening it.

"Is this public enough for you?" I whisper, my lips brushing hers as they curl into the hint of a real smile at last.

"Can we go on with the game now, do you think?" the ref clears his throat as he opens the door to the penalty box. With one more roll of her chocolate coloured eyes, Jen shakes her head and heads back to her seat while I slide back onto the bench, grinning from ear to ear.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that." I shrug, watching him huff and puff and try to look disapproving but I can see the twinkle in his eyes. Both Mad Max and Gronk give the door a smack as they skate by, but I don't care. I can't stop smiling.

I was a little worried when it took so long for her to get up out of her seat. Actually for a minute or so there I thought she wouldn't. But when she did...the look in her eyes…I just knew that everything was going to be okay.

* * *

"Where are you going?" Jen looks up at me with her eyes all wide and full of panic as I get up, glancing up at the scoreboard.

"I'm meeting Ruuts down in the dressing room," I smile down at her. "Don't worry, we'll come back for you."

"You're…_leaving_ me here?" she gasps, pushing her self up from the hard bench, but I just reach down and put my hand on her shoulder.

"I said we'll be back. I'll probably be back in a couple minutes. I mean, as much as I'd _like_ them to, they're not going to let me in the showers are they?" She nods, smiling, but the panic hasn't quite left her eyes. "I'll be back, I _promise_."

"You'd better," she sighs, looking very unimpressed with me. I think she's feeling a little over exposed, what with all the kissing and whistling and what not. I just nod and head towards the tunnel in time to beat the crowds as the buzzer sounds to end the game. I glance towards the ice to see the boys in red celebrating their victory, Jarkko hugging his new team mates on the bench as the boys in black skate solemnly across the ice and into the tunnel. I'd feel sorry for them, but, well, they _are_ the enemy now.

Leaning against the cool concrete in the tunnel, I watch him skate toward me, his broad grin getting impossibly broader as his gaze focuses on me and I have a moment to wonder if I'll ever get tired of seeing that happy, cocky grin. I doubt it.

"My hero," I whisper against his lips as he tips mine up for a soft kiss.

"Most wives get upset at the sight of blood," he whispers back, his lips trailing down the line of my jaw until his teeth sink into my earlobe, "especially pregnant ones."

"What can I say? Your son likes the taste," I mutter, licking the blood his split bottom lip has left on mine as he kisses his way down my neck.

"Do you think our son will mind if I take you into one of the equipment rooms and…," his green eyes sparkle as he lifts his gaze to meet mine.

"You know, I don't think that it's normal to be so turned on by a pregnant woman," I chuckle, feeling his fingers spread across my expanding belly.

"How could I not? So ripe, so luscious, so _mine_," he grins, his eyes shining.

"And I'm not sure I like how possessive you are of our son," I grumble playfully, but I can't quite keep a straight face. "He'll be mommas little boy, just you watch. Ballet, pottery…," my voice trails off into a squeal as he lifts me off my feet and gives me a gentle shake.

"No ballet, anything but that," he growls, putting me back down and sweeping me into a long soft kiss that leaves me weak kneed. "Now, go give your keys to Jen. She'll know what to do with them. We'll get a taxi to the hotel."

"What? My keys…what?" I ask, digging in my purse as I look up at him, confused.

"C'mon, you wanted the love birds back together; give them some place to get reacquainted," he adds, smiling and kissing the tip of my nose.

"Sex…in our car?" I mumble, feeling immediately queasy.

"You're coming to Ottawa with me so we're just gonna be turning in that car tomorrow anyway. So…if you're not having sex in it with me, then get over it."

"I never said we weren't," I mumble, fishing the key ring out and refusing to meet his gaze. With a chuckle he lifts my chin in his hand.

"Aren't you the one about a week before I left for training camp that said she was too fat to fornicate in a car?" he grins, kissing my forehead, my eyelids and then placing a soft kiss on my lips.

"Maybe," I mumble, my shoulders slumping in defeat. "Still…why are we doing him favors? He's the enemy now."

"He's still my friend, and she's yours right? I mean, the last two weeks, she _is_ the one that's been holding your hair while you puke. Am I right?" I smile up at him and nod.

"It's not my fault your daughter doesn't like cheese," I sigh, putting my hands over his on my belly. When I look up, his eyes are all misty. "What?"

"You just look so…beautiful," he smiles, kissing me once more before giving my bottom a hard pat in the direction from which I came. "Now, go do your good deed for the day while I shower. I'll see _you_ back at the hotel."

I watch him go, blinking back tears of my own. I never thought I could do this. Be a family, be a mom but he makes it seem so…easy. Just when I get to the point where I think this is all crazy, that it's totally impossible, he looks at me like…like _that_ and then suddenly everything is perfect again and I can do anything.

Still…twins….

Giving myself a general shake I head back up into the stand, bouncing the keys in my hand, to find Jen practically vibrating on the spot where I'd left her. She looks up at me, wide eyed and I can't help but laugh.

"I'm sorry, really," I cough, covering my grin with my hand. "It's just…you look so scared and I want to say he's just a kid, what can you be so scared of?"

"Just a…," her lips thin out and her eyes narrow and she snaps her gaze away from mine. "You did that on purpose."

"Honestly no," I chuckle, easing myself down beside her. "But you should have seen your face. You were ready to kick my ass."

"I was just getting over the idea of…us," she sighs, dropping her chin into her hands and staring at the empty ice. "It was all just…overwhelming and sudden and now…," she shrugs and glances over at me, and I can still see the whites of her eyes.

"And now what? You realize you still love him and that he loves you? Yeah that's pretty terrible alright." I prod her a little and then sit back to watch her mull it over.

"But it's one thing here…I mean…I know that was a big public gesture and…I guess once I'm over being sort of horrified by it, it might seem romantic later but back home…." She looks over at me, the whites of her eyes fading as she shrugs again and waits for me to finish her thought.

"Believe me honey," I reach over and put my arm around her shoulders and give her a gentle squeeze, "this will already have reached back home by the time you get there." She shudders and grumbles something unintelligible. I have to hold back a giggle while I shake my head and slide the keys into her hands. "Why don't you worry about that later and just…enjoy the big romantic gesture huh? I've got to go meet Jaks back at the hotel. When you're…uh…done with those, just leave them at the front desk. I'll see you soon huh?" I give her shoulders another squeeze and then ease myself back up onto my feet and aim in the direction of the aisle, leaving her to her thoughts.

* * *

The first time I'd seen that look was the day I met her. Looking down the stage at her, seeing the sparkle in those dark eyes and that little half grin that said…well, nothing innocent. Seeing her now, down the hallway with a pair of keys dangling from her fingers catching the light, that same little smile on her face, and I have the same reaction I did back then.

Hot damn!

As soon as she sees my answering grin, she turns and heads down the hall, weaving her way through the press, other players, equipment managers and coaches. Pulling my knit cap down, I dodge through the throng, waving off questions and apologizing as I push people out of the way. Nothing is getting between me and her tonight.

My body's been burning for hers' ever since the kiss. I couldn't keep my mind on the game at all after that. Not that I'd done much better before that. Really, right after Jarkko had told me she was there, I was pretty much doomed. But at least I'd been able to channel my mixed feelings into some pretty good speed and a couple of good checks. But after the kiss…no, I needed her now, I couldn't wait any longer and thankfully she looked like she was on the same page as usual.

The cold air mixed with rain hit me hard after coming out of the sweatbox of the dressing room, making me suck in my breath through my teeth. Holding on to the door, I looked around but she'd managed to lose me, the minx. I searched the dark parking garage for her, listened for her voice, but all I found was her dark pea jacket, lying across the hood of a black Mercedes. With a grin, I let go of the door and walk across the lot, grabbing the jacket and peering in the car.

She isn't in it.

Cursing, I scan the surrounding cars, listen for her giggle, nothing. Then I see black t-shirt dangling from the door handle of a Land Rover. With a shake of my head I jog over and grab it, pulling at the handle.

It's locked.

"C'mon Jen! You're going to freeze!" I call, and finally hear her giggle in reply, somewhere behind me. Turning, I think I see her dart between two cars, and head in that direction but when I get there, all I see is a pair of lace up fur lined winter boots. Now she's running around barefoot and I've got an armful of her clothes. This time I only glance inside, sure she won't be inside.

She's not.

With a sigh I walk around until I find her jeans folded on the hood of a red Volvo. Folded. She had time to fold them while I wandered around looking like an idiot. I'm beginning to lose my patience for this game. Laying them over my arm, I gaze around me until a pair of headlights on a Bentley blink on and off. Shaking my head, I trudge over to it, and peer inside.

The front seats are empty.

But the back seat isn't. Shaking my head and laughing, I toss everything in the front seat and grab the handle, pulling the door wide.

* * *

His pupils go wide as he watches me slowly slide my panties off and toss them into the front seat. Then his tongue slides out to moisten his soft lips as I reach behind me to unhook my bra, and I watch him blink rapidly as I shrug off the straps and toss it towards the rear view mirror. The cold wet wind makes my nipples almost painfully hard, but does nothing to cool the heat between my thighs as his fingers begin to undo the buttons on his jacket, his gaze focused on my fingers slowly working their way in and out of my moist folds.

I almost lose my poker face when his tie gets stuck on his toque, but I'm quickly sobered when he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his chiseled six-pack and smooth skin. My fingers itch to touch him, but instead I just slide further down into the leather seat, dropping one foot to the floor and pulling the other up onto the seat, spreading my pussy for him to see just how much I'm aching for his touch.

With a growl, he pulls off his belt, and gives it a flick, the leather sliding painlessly over my thigh, but sending a shiver of anticipation up my spine. His suit pants and winter boots all seem to come off at once, leaving him in his boxer briefs, his thick cock already at full attention, pressing against the thin cotton fabric. With a grin I slide my fingers as deep into my pussy as they'll go, watching his face contort into something near pain as I withdraw them, glistening in my juices, and offer them up to him.

With a moan, he crawls onto the seat, grabbing my wrist and sucking on my fingers as he pulls the door shut behind him. Feeling his tongue swirl around my fingers, the pull of his lips on my fingers, sends a shiver straight down between my thighs and leaves me gasping for breath.

"Bentley eh? High class," he grins as he wiggles and kicks his way out of his briefs.

"Carm's rental," I reply breathlessly, my hips rising to meet his as he guides his swollen cock towards my entrance.

"And she doesn't mind us…ummm…?" he stops, just the tip of his erection pressing against my slick entrance.

"Her idea," I pant, staring down at his cock, wanting desperately for him to shove it inside of me.

"Are you sure?" he whispers. Looking up at him, I know the impatience is clear on my face.

"I'm naked Sidney so…yeah, I'm pretty damned sure," I mutter, reaching for his face with my hand, pulling his lips down onto mine, his body following. His lips crush mine, but I feel his first tentative thrust and I want to scream into his mouth, 'no, no hard, fast.' Instead, I press my feet to the windows and push up against him, meeting him hard. With a grunt, he presses into me harder, but still not as deep as I want, not as hard as I need. "Grab the back of the seats," I suggest breathlessly, as his lips withdraw. I watch him pull himself up to his knees, his broad shoulders and wide smooth chest rising over me and expanding as he reaches out for the head rests, grasping one in each hand as he smiles down at me.

"Fuck I've missed you," he groans as he slams his pelvis against mine, grinding and rotating for good measure before pulling back and shoving himself even deeper inside of me.

"Not just this?" I ask, gripping the edge of the bench seat with one hand and pulling my thigh back with the other, wanting him deeper, wanting him to stretch me wide.

"No," he shakes his head, his grin turning animalistic as his still damp dark curls fall into his face. "But this too."

* * *

"This feel okay?" I ask as she lowers herself onto me slowly, her dark eyes fluttering closed as I push up into her at the same time.

"Everyone's just fine," she mumbles, her finger nails digging into my shoulders as my hands slide around her and grab a hold of her ass.

"I don't want our kids coming out looking like golf balls," I smile up at her as she sucks in a breath between her clenched teeth.

"They won't, they can't…," her eyes flutter open and she regards me for one long silent moment. "You were kidding again," she sighs, sliding her hands around my neck. "You shouldn't tease a pregnant woman."

"I had no idea that all these hormones would make you so…gullable?" I grin as she glowers down at me.

"You're supposed to be nice to me. I _am_ carrying your children, and let me tell you, it's not all baby showers and knitting. You try peeing every hour on the hour," she grumbles, narrowing her pretty eyes at me.

"Thanks for the mood killer baby," I laugh, dipping my head to her tender swollen breasts, suckling gently until her fingers wrap around the back of my head and she begins to slowly move again, meeting my gentle thrusts. In actual fact, the feel of her swollen belly pressed against me, her full heavy breasts, and she couldn't kill the mood for me if she tried. I thought I wanted her before, but now, with her belly heavy with my children, I want her all the more. It's been hell these past couple of weeks without her and I can't wait to get her home.

Home…Ottawa. An empty barren house, waiting for her feminine touch, for the sound of our children playing, maybe even a dog barking in the yard. Home with my family surrounding me; it's going to be like heaven.


End file.
